


Golden Ghosts

by whalehuntingboyfriends



Series: Crowned Souls [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, king AU, minecraft au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:58:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 226,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8871295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalehuntingboyfriends/pseuds/whalehuntingboyfriends
Summary: After months of planning and preparation, the five kings finally embark on their quest to the Nether to retrieve Geoff’s soul. At the same time, worlds are beginning to collide as Midas sets about his mission to return from the End.A developing relationship promises peace between the kingdoms - but when old fears return to haunt them, it threatens to set the kings in conflict with each other once again. (Sequel to Where the Lost Go and Broken Heavens)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to justisaisfine, angelology and miss-ingno for their help with this fic! <3

** PART I: BLOOD AND STONE ** ****

 

The Wild king was drowning.

He sank through dark, murky water into what seemed like bottomless depths. This was no ocean - there were no sandbanks here, no colourful coral or gentle schools of fish. Nothing but an unnaturally deep pool that sank endlessly down, lined with an alternating pattern of tiles in green and blue that reflected a dappled array of colours through the water. 

Occasionally there was a shimmer of light from the high skylight far above the surface, obscured now and then by the dark shadows of fighting forms - but even that was fading as he drifted slowly down into blackness. 

Eyes shut-

Face pale-

A thin string of blood trailing in rivets from a cut high on his brow-

His sodden clothes weighing him down; leather armour over multicoloured cloth wraps swathed around his body, the tattered end of his creeper-skin scarf the last thing trailing up above him.

Down here, every sound was muffled, like there was a thick, heavy blanket over everything. But from above, indistinct yelling could be heard, distorted through the water, and the vague, clashing ring of metal and swords. A shrill scream of pain-

And then, cutting through the muted watery landscape, a furious roar that seemed to make the entire pool tremble.

With a _crash!_ another body suddenly broke through the water beside him, hurtling down past his slowly sinking form into the depths. It was a Desert soldier, deep wounds over her entire body streaming red blood that billowed like silk into the water around her. She was quite dead - her pale eyes staring lifelessly up at the surface - sinking fast because of her heavier armour, past the king’s drifting, motionless form, oddly serene in the midst of the carnage.

_Crash!_ Another body, on his other side - this one with their neck snapped unnaturally backwards and missing an entire arm, more red clouding the water. 

_Crash!_ \- a zombie this time, torn limb from limb and disintegrating into pieces even as its limp, greenish form sank beside him.

Then came the arrows.

One after another they pierced the water around him, streaming through it like shooting stars that left scattered trails of bubbles in their wake. They narrowly missed him - a few thudding into the zombie’s deteriorating body next to him. One ripped through part of his scarf, tearing a hole before drifting away, lost like everything else in the deep darkness.

 And then, lashing through the water nearby-

An enormous, dark tentacle swept through the pool. It absently struck the Wild king’s body and sent him careening limply sideways through the water. 

The tentacle curled in on itself. It was connected to a dark, shadowy mass that was slowly making its way up to the top of the water. Higher and higher it rose. Closer to the surface, more light shimmered through the water, which was filled with debris - chunks of rubble and fallen rocks, the water churning and frothy and turning slowly red with far too much blood. Those dim noises grew clearer, up here- 

“Fall back! Fall back!” a man was yelling, his voice frantic and commanding. “Get up around the side! I need half of you on arrows, the rest of us will distract it-”

Another roar rang out, a bubbling, gargling sort of sound that turned into a clear, animalistic screech as the creature broke the surface of the water. As large as a house and a glistening, inky black in colour, its lashing tentacles gave it the appearance of a single writhing, wet mass, from the centre of which red eyes glinted. As it screamed, a gaping maw opened in its face, filled with row after row of sharp, pointed teeth.

_Kraken_.

It was so big that it barely fit into the opening of the enormous pool that took up most of the chamber in which it now surfaced. The dark water surrounded a stone platform - it was an expansive room, with high ceilings and a narrow open skylight through which sunlight streamed, the only source of light in what was otherwise a sealed in chamber. There were great holes blown in the floor and walls, filling slowly with water, the round craters characteristic of a creeper explosion.

It had clearly been a temple of some sort; alcoves high on the walls contained the ruined forms of statues of the gods, rundown with age and the elements until they were little more than shadowy forms watching in silent disapproval as the kraken roared again and lashed out with its strong tentacles.  

High pillars ringed the pool, but these crumbled and broke as the creature struck them, falling away into the water, sending broken stone flying through the air.

The men standing on the platform scattered with alarmed cries. Bleeding and battered, there were only a dozen or so of them left. They wore the bright colours of the Desert kingdom, and were covered in the dust and grime of long travel. Most wielded scimitars and short swords, though they had little chance to use them, focused on leaping about to avoid the heavy pieces of rubble being hurled in all directions.

And in the midst of them - nearly unrecognisable beneath the blood that splattered his entire face - stood King Ray, fighting just as hard. His clothes were soaked in red, but little of it was his. There were less than half the men who he’d brought into the temple with him left standing. He was breathing heavily as he reached up and swiped blood and stinging sweat from his eyes, before throwing himself down to duck a swipe - this time from one of the tentacles itself, snapping out and lashing just above his head, close enough that he felt the wind lift his hair.

He stood again, glinting steel in his eye - the Rose king dripping with blood and ichor, but face hard and grip on his sword tight as with a furious cry he lunged after the tentacle and swung his blade. 

There was force behind the blow, and it cut through the heaving muscle like butter. The kraken screamed again and drew all its limbs back for a moment. Ray straightened up and tossed his hair out of his face, breathing heavily as he stared up at it.

_Gavin_.

He could feel the thread of the soul bond connecting him to the other man, a faint presence at the back of his mind. _Danger. Fading._ Falling slowly away from him as he sank somewhere in the dark water nearby. But Ray couldn’t think about him now - he had to focus on the fight, and he shook himself and raised his sword once more.

“Fall back!” he yelled again. His voice was ragged and hoarse by now, but it echoed through the stone chamber. The soldiers retreated as a volley of arrows rained down from above, where a winding staircase led to several stone walkways high above the water. There were more archers crouched up there, although part of one of the walkways was shattered where a piece of column had hit it, a broken body pinned beneath the debris. 

Ray glanced around, and grimaced. There were pitifully few men left, and nowhere to hide on this bare platform. He caught sight of a soldier lying, groaning, blood spreading in a pool beneath their body, perilously close to the waterline. Darting out while the kraken was distracted, he seized them under the arms and dragged them back to the somewhat safer territory of one of the doors leading out of the chamber and to the rest of the temple. 

 There he caught his breath for a moment, reaching to rub his side. There was a furious ache in his ribs, but he didn’t have time to stop and check on it. Face twisting with pain, he looked up again. In the light spilling from the open ceiling, the kraken was lit up as though under some horrible spotlight, pulling all its limbs back, ready to strike again.

_Come on. Think. Your blades are doing nothing. Its skin is too thick for the arrows to pierce it._

There was another _crash_ as the kraken struck out once more, flinging a chunk of debris towards the remaining men on the platform. The piece of stone struck another column, already damaged and remaining precariously upright, and it crumbled and fell, landing in the water with a great splash and sending up a huge wave of water that they struggled to dodge.  

Ray adjusted his grip on his sword and made for the stairs leading up to the walkways. He pulled his bow from his back as he ran, and emerged on top to find the archers had ducked back behind what little cover there was; several more columns and pillars up here, still intact, but not for long if the creature kept going as it was.

“The arrows aren’t doing anything!” one woman cried, spying him. “They’re bouncing right off!”

“Aim for its mouth!”

“We _are!_ It’s not working!” 

Ray nocked his own arrow. He peered out from behind cover and spied the creature’s glinting red eye. Acting on instinct, he fired, aiming for it - several arrows were batted away by its thrashing tentacles; one struck it somewhere in the face, and it roared again. It darted back away under the water, vanishing as suddenly as it had emerged, leaving nothing but a web of dark ripples. All of a sudden there was blissful _silence_.

He could hear the heavy breathing of his soldiers, the weak cries of pain from those injured below. Finally, he had a moment to _think_.

_Gavin. Where are you?_

The other man had fallen from one of these same walkways earlier. Ray had watched him vanish into the swirling black water, and he hadn’t resurfaced since. But he was still _alive_ , that he could sense - and he could feel the other kings pressing in against his mind. They must be able to feel the fear and panic and adrenaline coursing through his own blood. Must sense Gavin’s own thread ebbing weakly away with every passing moment.

They must be afraid.

It was too much like what had happened to Geoff; even now he could feel Jack’s barely suppressed anxiety. Michael’s furious worry. Ryan, pressing insistently for answers.

But he had to ignore them. Gavin was still alive - his skeletons, even now, were up here fighting alongside Ray, still obeying the Wild king’s last orders - eerie bare forms armed with bows, standing up here heedless of the danger, peering out from behind the columns now and then to send volleys of arrows into the beast below. Ray had to _kill_ this damn thing, then he could search for the other man.

There wasn’t much time.

The water had gone ominously silent. Ray finally peered out from behind the wall, staring around the temple searching for some inspiration, when he suddenly caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral and barely dodged back again as a massive block of stone was hurled from the water and hit the wall just past his head. It shattered on impact, sending a hail of tiny rocks in all directions; they struck his back painfully as he automatically crouched, shielding his head.

“The _fuck!”_ he yelled - he glanced down again just in time to see a piece of another column hurtle from the water. 

The fucking kraken was _throwing things_ at them, from down in the pool - hurling the big pieces of debris that had fallen into the water previously, among other things - he watched in horror as half of a zombie’s body came flying out next, spattering disgusting ichor as it landed against the wall with a wet _splat_ , leaving a dark stain and showering flesh and blood over the soldiers who were crouched against the back of the platform, hiding.

Another piece of the walkway was thrown, and Ray stumbled back to avoid being hit-

And then, a familiar flash of green. He barely had time to focus before he realised the next tentacle that drew back out of the water was curled around Gavin’s body, lifting him up out of the pool. Dripping wet and unresponsive, he hung in its grasp, the great limb curled around his waist as it pulled back, ready to fling him-

“Gav!” Ray yelled, eyes widening in horror. 

The kraken flung him carelessly towards them. Gavin was limp, hurtling towards the back wall - if the water hadn’t killed him, the impact certainly would, and Ray watched as he arched up towards the ceiling, too far above them to catch. For a brief, panicked moment he had no idea what to do.

But he acted on instinct. The bond surged as he laid eyes on the other man; he felt magic course through his body and blood. Barely even thinking about it, he stamped his foot and flung his arms desperately outwards as though to catch the other man, drawing on as much power as his gift would let him.

The stones under his feet glowed green, and the creeping moss and algae that covered the walkways and the walls of the damp, cool chamber flared with a sudden light. Strong, weaving vines - a mocking parallel of the kraken’s own tentacles - sprouted suddenly from the wall, stretching out like grasping limbs and catching Gavin, slowing his flight and cradling him gently, wrapping around him and drawing him into a cocoon of soft leaves and branches, nestled high up against the wall and safely out of reach.

_Thank the gods._

The tight knot of fear that’d been in the pit of his stomach since he saw Gavin fall into the water finally loosened. With the other man safe - at least for now - he could focus much better. With power surging through him, fists clenched by his sides, Ray turned once more to face the beast. 

Its glistening body was surfacing again from the water, and Ray thought quickly. No sword was working against it - no arrow, no blade. It was simply too strong. They needed something _bigger_.

He looked around the chamber once more. Nothing but the statues in alcoves on the walls, the crumbling holes left by the creepers-

And the walkway he was standing on, one of the few left intact, the others already broken and fallen away under the force of the kraken’s attacks. The idea struck him in an instant - there was no time to lose. Anything was worth trying at this point. He drew himself up and turned to face the other archers, still hunkered back behind the columns.

“Everyone, get back down! _Now!”_  

No one hesitated, obeying their king without question and scurrying back down the stairs. Satisfied they were all moving to safety, Ray turned back to look at the kraken.

The walkway he stood on was almost directly above the creature, especially as it emerged fully from the water and began to swim closer to the stone platform, its grasping tentacles reaching out to grab the soldiers huddled against the far wall. Closer it came, closer, _closer_ , until it was right below him-

 With a great shout, Ray lifted his arms, and called upon his gift, and slammed his fists down against the walkway once more.

A burst of green magic shot out of him, making the entire room tremble. Once again, a series of vines sprouted from the thick lichen that covered the stones, and snaked around the walkway, wrapping tighter and tighter. 

The walkway was old, the rock damaged and already crumbling a little from so long in the damp space above the pool. The vines glowed with a surge of magic, and as they squeezed tightly, the walkway snapped. Ray stumbled backwards as the entire middle section of it dropped heavily down, enormous chunks of stone falling and striking the kraken hard in the head.

The monster screamed.

A horrible, grating _shriek_ that echoed through the chamber and made everyone rear back, clutching at their ears. It sounded like the screeching cries of a thousand demons, like the gates of hell had opened up momentarily and they were hearing the unnatural shrieks of the dead. Ray staggered backwards from the jagged edge of the broken walkway. He steadied himself against the columns near the stairs and dared to peer down into the water. 

The heavy stones were already sinking, and the water itself was thick with black blood billowing around the remains of the beast. It seemed to be dead - its body limp, its tentacles falling to the ground and slowly slithering back into the water as it began to sink away, lifeless. 

Ray stumbled, dizzily, as his vision suddenly flashed with bright spots. He fell to his knees, breathing heavily, worried about losing his balance and falling from the platform. Everything _ached_ with the familiar, dull pain that came with overextending his powers. He hadn’t used his magic like that in a while, and he lowered his head and took a moment to try and recover his energy. 

“My lord!” a voice cried.

One of his archers was back by his side. He couldn’t see her, but he felt her come up next to him and put an arm around him, easing him to his feet. Waiting for his vision to clear, he leaned heavily against her and let her guide him down the stairs, where he sat down on the bottom step and put his head between his knees until the flashing lights stopped and the world swam back into focus.

“Are you alright?”

His soldier was pressing a water gourd into his hand, and he drank gratefully. Part of him was on tenterhooks, waiting for the kraken to suddenly re-emerge - but all was still and silent, nothing but the cold damp and the rhythmic _drip-drip-drip_ of water falling from the alcoves, which had been drenched by the enormous splash of the walkway falling into the pool. 

He lifted his head and gave a weak smile to the archer, who smiled back before rising and turning to the other soldiers. His men were gathering together now, tending to their wounded and searching for the dead. Ray’s heart stuttered unhappily at just how few of them were left. He’d never truly grown used to losing soldiers, and hadn’t quite anticipated that this expedition would be so dangerous.

_Gavin_.

It came back to him in a rush, and he rose abruptly, releasing the magic that he’d still been holding onto. He turned and watched as the vines encasing Gavin slowly lowered him to the ground at the side of the platform before fading and dying away. It was strong magic and something Ray had been practicing extensively these last six months; he had been unused to these aggressive manifestations of his powers, to creating different types of plants other than flowers and vegetables and herbs. It still drained him a lot, but it had come in handy since their quest began. 

Now, he rushed to Gavin’s side, worried about how he might find him. The other man was still alive, that he could sense - but he looked very still, lying there on the cold, hard ground, and Ray couldn’t see his chest moving.

“Gavin!” he cried, as he approached and dropped to his knees beside the other man.

Gavin lay motionless - eyes shut, hair plastered wetly to his forehead. His lips were blue, and he was pale and very cold when Ray dragged him into his lap, heedless of how his clothes were immediately soaked through.

Now that he wasn’t completely focused on combat, he paid attention to the others once again, and could feel them prodding at the edges of his mind. It’d become habitual lately, to feel them every day - gently checking up on each other, seeing what everyone was up to, revelling in the fact that even if they were all separated by distance, they were still bound to one another’s souls, a comforting, constant presence. 

He could feel their questioning nudges, each of them tinged with concern, anxiety, fear - _Gavin? Ray?_ No actual words, but a clear emotion in how they directly reached out for both of them, trying to figure out what was going on. Gavin’s own thread was frighteningly devoid of _anything_.

Ray leaned forward and thumped on Gavin’s chest, hard - for a few terrible moments, nothing happened, but he could feel the other man was still alive, and kept at it.  
  
“Come on, come on,” he heard someone say, and barely registered that it was his own voice, the words spilling out unbidden- 

Finally, with a heaving retch, Gavin began to cough and choke.

_Thank the gods._ It felt like Ray’s own heart had started up again as he felt Gavin’s link in the bond flare back to life, albeit with panic and confusion. But the others’ relief washed through, soothing both of them as he gently rolled Gavin onto his side and he hacked up what seemed like bucketfuls of water. 

“Come on, Gav. You’re alright. You’re okay. Get it out. I’ve gotcha.” Ray reached out and rubbed his back, smoothing his hair from his face. Gavin was curled in on himself, water spewing from his mouth, shivering violently now - but as his choking subsided Ray tugged him closer and hugged him tightly, finally letting himself relax.

They’d gotten out of this in one piece. That was something to be grateful for - he knew, from the events of the last six months, that they easily might not have been so lucky.

But here he was, holding Gavin tightly in his arms. The other man huddled into him, still letting out little rasping coughs with every breath. Ray rubbed his back soothingly, holding him close. After a moment, he pressed a kiss to the top of the other man’s head; a little automatic motion that he barely paid attention to.

Ryan was still sending questioning feelings through the bond, and Ray quickly tried to project reassurance out to all of them - _we’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay. Stop worrying._ After a moment, the frantic unease subsided and the others seemed reassured and faded into the background once more.

“I’ve got you,” Ray whispered again. With Gavin pressed right up against him, he felt the usual flaring, strong warmth he always got at being so close to the other man’s magic. With both of them wet and shivering, it was a pleasant rush through their veins, like the burning afterglow of strong liquor.  

“What-” Gavin choked out, between wheezing gasps - Ray could barely hear him; his voice was wrecked from swallowing so much water, but he got the gist of it.

“You fell into the water,” he explained, voice low and soothing, close to Gavin’s ear. “But the creature’s dead. We killed it. You’re fine - it’s all fine, now.”

“Ray?”  Gavin managed then, still seeming a bit dazed.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. You’re alright now.”

Gavin still seemed confused, but he pressed his face into Ray’s shoulder, seeking warmth. Ray gave him a moment to recover before pulling back and cupping the other man’s face with his hands, thumbs gently stroking over his cheeks, staring him in the eyes until the vacant look on Gavin’s face cleared, and he seemed to finally remember exactly where he was and what they were doing here. His gaze focused on Ray’s, and he gave a small smile before reaching up and gingerly rubbing his head, wincing.

“Back with us?” Ray asked, softly. 

Gavin nodded. He was still pale, his face tight with pain, and Ray figured he must be aching and bruised from the fight and the fall. With the adrenaline fading away, he noticed his own injuries, now - a dull ache in his side, drawing into a sharp, tight pain every time he breathed in too quickly. He’d been smacked by one of the creature’s tentacles early on and sent slamming into the back wall of the stone chamber.  

He wasn’t sure if anything was broken, but nothing felt _life-threatening_. He pushed the pain aside. They still had work to do.

He cradled Gavin for a long moment, letting him take some time to rest and get his breath back. The other man didn’t pull away, letting his weight flop against Ray, their wet clothes clinging to their bodies. It should’ve been cold, but Ray let himself settle into the searing, inner warmth that always came with two kings being physically close together.

He suddenly, acutely missed Michael. 

It had been too long since he saw the others, since he felt this same magic drawing them together. There was a different flavour to being near each of them, and he longed for the others, to kindle the spark that connected him to each of them into a blazing flame. He’d seen Michael and Gavin the most since they all left the Wild, but even so, it’d been weeks since he visited his husband.

_Nearly there_ , he told himself. _Soon you’ll all be together_.

Finally, Gavin stirred in his arms.

“Did you fall asleep?” Ray joked.

Gavin scoffed out a little laugh.

“No,” he replied, “Although I am exhausted.” 

He rubbed his hands over his face before taking a deep breath and getting up. As soon as he moved he winced, hunching over himself for a moment, clearly in pain. Ray could feel it through the bond; how stressed he was, how tired and aching. But it passed, and the two of them heaved each other to their feet, leaning against one another until they both got their balance back.

Ray looked around, counting heads. His heart clenched at the loss of so many men. Some were being dragged by the surviving soldiers into neat rows of still bodies. Others had been lost to the water. Some still were sitting, bleeding from various wounds, their fellows tending to their injuries. 

But there would be time to mourn later. 

“Let’s get going!” he shouted. “Those who are wounded, rest here and prepare to travel. We’re almost at the end!” 

They looked up and nodded, already shuffling to obey. The rattle of bones echoed through the chamber as the surviving draugr gathered themselves at Gavin’s silent command.  

Ray took a deep breath, and turned back around. Beside him, Gavin’s worried face looked pale in the faint strings of sunlight spilling through the ceiling. Pale - but determined. Weary with travel - but the hard lines around his eyes making him look more mature somehow. Ray let his gaze linger for a moment on the sharp line of the other man’s cheek, the scratchy shadow of stubble, his unkempt hair curling gently as it dried.  

Then he looked up, beyond him, to the dark doorway on the other end of the broken walkway, a gaping black square high on the wall- 

And the pulsing hum of power he could feel from inside that darkness, faded to a background throb during the distraction of the fight, but rising up again now - the unmistakable buzzing of _magic_.

 

* * *

 

 

It had taken them six months to collect the stones. 

Ryan had found out about them after weeks of research - a short time, considering how all of this had laid uncovered for practically centuries. He’d been relentlessly tracking down his mother’s contacts, reading ancient texts, bringing in scholars to help him decipher and translate, the Stoneworld capital turned into a bustling hub of research and learning. 

The portal to the End had, ultimately, provided their answers. 

Ryan had remembered how it had been made of some particular material that was like nothing from this world - rocks from the End, gathered by the Endermen, and had figured that it was that which allowed people to travel through it, rather than any sort of advanced technology.

It made sense that to get to the Nether, they’d have to create a door made from some similar material, presumably from the Nether itself. 

But where to get it in their world? The Stoneworld was filled with all manner of minerals, but none that was what they needed. 

That was where the research had come in. 

In all his reading Ryan had learned of the ancient temples of the dead, scattered throughout the five kingdoms - some hidden, all long fallen into disuse as civilisation progressed and worship shifted to the grand cathedrals in the city centres. Knowing what he now did about magic, Ryan read up on their history, and realised they all reportedly had some sort of connection to the afterlife - some supposed means of allowing worshippers to feel a deep contact with the gods.

_Magic_.  

Ryan and Gavin had gone to one in the Stoneworld together, and could immediately sense that there was something different about it, that it wasn’t mere superstition that hung over them, but something else, something from another land that was imbued with a foreign power, that had the same thrumming, unsettling _wrongness_ as the portal and the beasts. 

And they’d found the first piece there - at the centre of the altar, a rock that hummed with some other world. 

 _Netherrack_ , Ryan had called it - and they knew there were more. 

So they had all tracked down the other temples, venturing within them on quests to gather as much material as they needed to build their own doorway. There was only one in the Wild, and two in the Stoneworld - most others were scattered through the Plains, the Alps, and the Desert. 

Gavin had gone around to help the others gather the pieces. Ryan stayed back in the Stoneworld to design the doorway, occasionally going to the Wild to study the structure of the End portal. And so they had all journeyed far, gathering what they needed. Each temple came with its own dangers - booby traps. Bandits. In the case of this one, ancient monsters long buried beneath sand and stone and centuries. 

They’d come close to death numerous times. Ray’s heart still ached when he thought of those long weeks as Michael’s life flickered weakly at the end of their bond - of how even now the other man didn’t, _couldn’t_ reach out magically to the rest of them as much or as strongly as he used to. 

But here they were. 

The final piece. 

The final trip, finished - after this, they would put it all together. Then he’d see the others again, _all_ of them.   

It was for that reason that he felt a thrill of excitement as he and Gavin walked into the heavy stillness of the final room. The air smelt stale and musty, and it was very cold, but he wasn’t scared. Magic blazed through his veins, and Gavin was close behind him - silent as a shadow, but his own presence heavy with magic as well. 

Ray stepped forward. The gods of death loomed around them - forbidding dark forms that seemed as though they could lurch from the darkness like wraiths, like ghouls, like Wither skeletons. But they were only stone. 

Their steps seemed too loud as they moved forward. The altar was covered with broken old pottery, rusted candlesticks and the rotted remains of some sort of animal, sharp bones protruding from leathery, blackened flesh. A grotesque display of history - but somehow they were drawn to it almost magnetically. Ray paused before it, but Gavin moved in. He swept a thick layer of dust from the altar’s surface-

And then began to cough and choke as it rose into a cloud about his face.

“ _Gods_ ,” he wheezed. “Bloody hell, okay, I should have swept it _away_ from me, probably. Regret. Much regret.”  

Ray couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter. The sound broke the heavy silence and he moved forward, rubbing Gavin’s back as he recovered. Then he saw it - with the white dust cleared away, a shining red square lay in the centre of the altar.

“Got it?” he asked.

Gavin gathered himself, clearing his throat and breathing deeply for a moment before he nodded. He pulled out the pickaxe they’d brought from below with them, hefting it expertly. Ray stepped back, and Gavin swung it towards the altar - arms flexing with the lean, corded muscle that came from hurling himself through the trees of the Wild, from the heavy lifting he’d done around Ryan’s lab as they worked on the portal, from riding between all five kingdoms countless times over the past six months. 

The altar crumbled under each blow, stone softened by the chamber’s damp falling away to expose more shimmering red. 

 _Crash! Crash! Crash!_ It echoed through the room like a heartbeat. Like _salvation_.  

 _We’re coming, Geoff._  

Gavin dropped the pickaxe with a loud _clang_ , breathing heavily. They stood among crumbling debris for a moment before Ray stirred and stepped forward.  

He pulled out a cube of the curious material from the centre of the stone ruins. It glowed like active redstone - he knew it would settle in a rough, duller maroon later on - and it felt warm to the touch. Like setting hands on the sun; heat against his palms and blazing in his chest. Like they were in the Wild again, surrounded by magic. 

Gavin took it from him and lifted it up above himself. His face was cast in a red light, and it made Ray think of Ryan. His heart clenched again. He hadn’t seen the Stone king in a while.  

 _You will soon._  

“We’re finished,” Gavin said. His voice trembled a little, and Ray reached out and touched his arm. Gavin looked at him, his green eyes shining and hopeful. They hadn’t talked about Geoff much since Gavin arrived in the Desert to help with his quest - too focused on the task at hand. But Ray knew they had all never stopped thinking about him. 

“Let’s go,” he replied, softly. He swallowed, throat suddenly dry. It was the dust in the air, he told himself. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

They broke into the sunlight outside the temple. It felt like waking from a deep sleep - leaving rugged, dark stone for hot wind and endless bright, blinding stretches of sand as far as the eye could see, the clear white expanse of the sky overhead, the merciless sun. The heat was a dry, intense wave, immediate as soon as they left the shade - but Ray was used to it, and tugged his hood up to keep the sun off his face.

They were leading scores of empty camels, too many soldiers who hadn’t made it leaving their steeds behind. The dead and wounded were slung over them, a morose reminder of the sacrifices that had been made by everybody so far. 

But the heat seeped into Ray’s skin and bones, thawing something within him that had been cold with grief for too long, and the desert silence was familiar and almost comforting after the echoing chambers of the temple and its constant _drip-drip_ of water, the kraken’s roars; the open entrance like a gaping mouth in the dunes behind them.  

By the door, Gavin sat upon a rock, scribbling away. He hopped up after a moment, and handed a small slip of parchment to Ray, who rolled it between deft fingers. Another soldier brought him the bird in its small cage, a tame, soft-eyed pigeon. It looked like a dove with its white feathers. Ray pulled it out and it sat obediently on his leg as he fastened the note to its ankle. 

Beside him, Gavin had swung himself nimbly onto his own mount; another of his horrible, giant spiders. They were faster in the desert than even the camels, able to scuttle lightly over the sand, scaling dunes with ease. They looked over at one another, eyes meeting for a long moment. 

“Soon,” Gavin said. It was all he needed to. 

 _Soon._ Back to the city, the palace. Soon, safety and cool air and clean fresh water. Soon the others would return. Soon their next adventure would begin, and something about this all felt like both the end of the chapter and the start of a new novel. 

Ray felt his lips stretch into a sudden grin - his first proper smile in quite a while. Gavin grinned too, his teeth flashing in his tanned face, something determined and feral in it. 

The bird knew where to go. It had carried messages back before.

“Go,” Ray whispered. He flung it up into the air and it fluttered away into the glaring sky - a small white spark like a shooting star. It looked like hope, and their straggling, broken band - alone in the middle of the barren desert - all tilted their heads back to watch it. When it finally vanished, Ray shook himself, aware once more of the blistering sun and his aching ribs and the long journey ahead.

It was time to ride home.

 

* * *

 

The Wild was quiet and peaceful, and a far cry from the unsettling jungle it used to be, filling any who entered it with dread. There was no black magic here now, no monsters or beasts. Just a tranquil silence, and the smell of roses hanging in the air, and the warm spring sunlight as Jack stood staring over the grave. 

The red flowers surrounding it were as vibrant and fresh as they had been the day that Ray put them there. A fat white cat sat on the foot of the tomb, enjoying the warmth that seeped into the stone from the sun high above. Jack couldn’t bring himself to shoo it away. And behind the red crystal lay Geoff, slumbering peacefully. His face showed no age, no wear, no decomposition. He could just as well have been sleeping. 

Except it had been six months, and he hadn’t so much as stirred.

Jack stepped forward and leaned down, crouching before the tomb until his face was as close as he could get it to the other man’s.

“We’re coming,” he whispered.

It always felt like Geoff could hear him. He’d probably said too much to the body, every time he visited. Telling him silly things - about his day, about the other kings, about what was going on in the court. About how much he _missed_ him. When he finally did see Geoff again, it would be strange to tell him all over again in person. 

It never got easier to look at him, but today - with what he now knew - Jack felt an odd peace, a steady reassurance. He reached out as though to touch Geoff- 

But his hand went right through the redstone, through the body itself, as incorporeal as a ghost. He stepped back and rose, something tugging in his chest. The Wild was too far for him to visit except in the Sight, and it meant he couldn’t ever touch the tomb, couldn’t lay down flowers or kiss the redstone gently like he wished to. 

 _Soon._  

 _Jack?_ Something prodded gently at their bond. It was Michael, and he was projecting a sense of urgency - _positive_ urgency. Something closer to excitement than worry. Jack shook himself, straightening up. Sent back _acknowledgement - I’m coming._  

“We’re coming,” he said again, aloud, to the body. Hoped that wherever Geoff was, he _knew_ that. 

He turned, only to freeze when he noticed Dan stepping out of the back doors of the nearby castle. He must’ve heard - Jack felt a bit flustered suddenly at being caught talking to what was essentially a dead body, but he brushed it off.

“Dan,” he said. “Everything alright?”  
  
Dan nodded, but he was frowning.  
  
“There’s movement in the creatures,” he began, uncertainly.

“What?”  
  
“They’re leaving,” Dan explained. “All the mobs. Gavin must’ve summoned them. Something’s going on - Gav will send us a message soon, probably.”

“Michael just contacted me, actually,” Jack replied. Gods, this magical connection growing so strong was useful. Previously it took ages for anyone except the Plains king to send a message to anybody. It was only when he spoke to non-Kings that he remembered how out of the loop they must feel sometimes.

Dan’s face lit up.

“They’ve found the last piece?” he asked, eagerly.

“Yes! Ray and Gavin just went to get it, and from what I’m feeling from them, they succeeded. Doubtless, they’ve contacted Michael about it already and are now preparing for everybody to travel to the Alps.”

Dan grinned, wide and excited, and Jack couldn’t help but smile as well, an odd thrill going through him. These last six months, the _progress_ he’d seen as they found piece after piece of the Netherrack had been one of the few things that kept him going, kept him _hopeful_ instead of just collapsing into grief. It felt a little unreal that finally all this buildup was going to come to a head.  

“Are you leaving, then?” Dan asked.

“Yes. I’ll see the others soon,” Jack replied, and couldn’t help but smile as he said it. “Gavin hasn’t sent for you?”

“He might,” Dan replied, “But he probably wants us here with the portal and Geoff. Ready to break him out when he revives, y’know?”

Ah yes - one of the most important parts of their mission would be to release Geoff from his redstone prison once he was resurrected. It’d require constant vigilance. But out of everybody, Jack trusted Dan the most to do it. He stepped towards Dan - it was difficult to move in the Sight when you were making yourself visible, and it took effort, but he was well practiced at it after these last few months.

“Thank you,” he said, sincerely. “I’ll give Gavin your regards.” 

Dan nodded. He must’ve missed his friend, Jack couldn’t help but think. Gavin had been all over the place recently. He had the strongest connection to magic, so he’d come to every temple he could since he was the fastest at finding out whether there actually was Netherrack in there, and tracking it down if there was. It meant he’d been away from his kingdom for a long time. They were lucky that the Wild didn’t need as much taking care of as every other city. 

But soon - soon they’d deal with this. It was all about to kick off, and with a final nod to Dan, Jack disappeared back into the Sight and soared up high above the Wild. 

Sure enough, he noticed movement in the trees as he rose into the air. Troops and troops of mobs were leaving the jungle, moving in straggling trails - a migration of beasts headed for the Stoneworld. From there, the Alps. Gavin would have commanded them to avoid villages, he knew, so as not to frighten the citizens. Hopefully they would all survive the journey there. 

He rose higher and higher. The land looked like a map spread out below him as he rushed away from the Wild, towards the grey, barren landscape of the Stoneworld, and the glistening ice-capped mountains of the Alps beyond. 

A small dot was moving along the landscape very fast. Jack could feel a thread tugging him towards it. He swooped closer, lower to the ground, and made out Ryan. 

The Stone king looked very heroic; his face set in determination, his cloak billowing out behind him as he sped across the rocky ground. He was surrounded by a number of clanking golems, running fast enough to keep pace with the horses, and two attendants moved with him. Still, most of his soldiers had stayed behind. There was no threat from the Wild anymore, but even with the portal closed, they were wary of the beasts reappearing, and no one wanted to leave their kingdoms undefended. 

Jack wouldn’t stop to appear to him. Ryan was going too fast and seemed too focused on his journey. But he smiled as he took note of the other man - at this speed he’d be at the Alps within the week. 

“See you soon,” he whispered, and drifted away. 

Now he rushed ahead, across the landscape at the speed of light - past cities and villages, dotting the dead earth and stone fields until he reached the Alps. Here there were trees and rivers, small encampments of warriors patrolling between towns to protect them from bandits. It was a familiar trip - one he’d made numerous times before. 

He reached the big capital, and flew up to the fortress nestled on the side of the mountain - not bothering to take in the sights. He’d seen them many times already.

Still - something was different, today. Everyone was bustling around, undoubtedly preparing for the arrival of more kings. Jack left them to it, instead following the path he had memorised, up into one of the towers, and then straight through the castle wall into Michael’s personal chambers, where he finally paused.

Michael was out of bed today. That was a good sign. He was standing bent over his desk, pointing at various places on a map of the city and talking intently to Jeremy, who nodded along with him. After a moment the soldier bowed and left, and Jack materialised behind Michael. 

“Boo!” he declared. 

Michael spun around with a literal _growl_ , hand flying to the dagger at his belt. When he saw Jack he burst out laughing, his shoulders relaxing.

“Gods above, Jack,” he said. “Are you trying to make my heart give out _again?_ ”

It was a relief he was able to joke about it, but Jack’s own smile was faint at the reminder of how close the other man had come to death. He stepped closer.

“Sorry,” he said, quite genuinely.

Michael just smiled. He’d looked intent and focused, talking to Jeremy, but now his eyes were sparkling and he seemed buzzing with some pent-up excitement. He was looking at Jack with a particular fondness that Jack had previously only really seen him direct at Ray - later, Gavin - and lately, _him_ , an affection that was as fiercely strong as everything else about Michael.  

“It’s all good,” he replied. He grinned wider, his eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that made Jack’s heart nearly skip a beat. Michael crossed back over to the desk and moved a bottle of wine out of the way, tracing a hand over the map.

“You’re looking sprightly today,” Jack commented, as he swept forward to join him. 

Michael laughed again.

“What the fuck do you mean, _sprightly?”_ he demanded, but it was hard to deny there was a certain giddiness in his voice.

“Like you have more energy,” Jack replied. “It’s good. Especially if we’re about to all go into the Nether.” 

“Jack, I’ve been healed for ages,” Michael pointed out. His voice was exasperated, but fond.

“I know,” Jack said. “But I worry.”

“You don’t have to! It takes more than some glorified fish to keep me down.”

“ _Still.”_  

He shuddered to think about it. The temple guardian that Michael had encountered had had the previously unseen ability to drain both the life force and _magic_ of those who got caught in its electric trap. Even Michael’s superhuman strength had been no match for it.

Jack wasn’t quite sure what had happened. No one else had been there at the time. But they’d all felt Michael weaken - so suddenly and so intensely that for a moment Jack had thought he had died, as his life at the end of the soul bond flickered in and out of existence.

His usual fast healing hadn’t worked. In fact, none of his magic remained, for quite a while - his connection in the bond nothing but a dull ember, his strength and resilience sapped from him. He’d been left bedridden for weeks. 

It had been a difficult time. Ray and Gavin had visited him, but only briefly, needing to continue on their own quest. It was Jack who’d come every day in the Sight, watching over him, even if it drained his own energy to travel so far and stay for so long.

But it had brought them closer. 

There was an easiness to how they interacted now that Jack really enjoyed. He’d never thought much about Michael before the games and all _this_ , but there was something about his simple nature that Jack liked tremendously. That wasn’t to say that he was stupid, but rather that he made up his mind about things quickly, and didn’t beat around the bush - held onto one emotion at a time and didn’t bullshit around. Jack appreciated that. He thought their personalities meshed rather well together. 

“Ryan’s on his way here,” he said then, and Michael nodded, grinning.

“Ray and Gav leave from the Desert capital tomorrow,” he replied. “It won’t take them long to get here.”

He crossed the room to a white bird sitting on a perch, pecking amiably at a handful of seeds tossed into a dish underneath it. Michael reached out and scratched at its cheek; it tilted its head placidly, not seeming to mind.

“Ray sent this messenger bird earlier today,” he continued. “There isn’t much information in it. But they have the final piece of Netherrack, and they’re on their way.”

“And the portal?” 

Michael crossed back to the table and pointed to a spot on the map.

“We’re gonna build it here,” he said, and grinned. “We’ve calculated it carefully. This spot is the centre of all the five kingdoms - lucky me that it happens to be in the Alps. I’ve ordered all the building supplies, and my warriors are ready in case anything happens to come through the portal. We’re lucky it’s in a fairly desolate spot, so there’s not too much danger building it.”

“And you’ll be okay to come in and get Geoff with us?” Jack asked.

“ _Jack_.” Michael gave him a singularly unimpressed _Look_ , eyebrows raised and eyes narrowed. Jack raised his hands defensively.

“Alright, just checking,” he said. “Look, we wouldn’t want one king to come back to life only to lose another!”

“I’m _completely_ recovered,” Michael informed him, and apparently believed flexing his biceps was a great way to demonstrate this. Still; he didn’t look as strong as he usually did - he’d lost weight during his illness, and he’d cut his long curls at some point. It made his face look thinner. He was still a little pallid, still looked like he could do with a better night’s sleep than what he’d been getting. But by all accounts, Jack didn’t look much better; stress had worn him down since Geoff’s death, and travelling so far and so often by the Sight hadn’t helped. He wasn’t really one to talk.

“Okay,” he replied, voice gentle but sincere. “I trust you.” 

“I’ll kick some Nether ass!” Michael grinned, and shadowboxed the air a few times before attempting a roundhouse kick and narrowing avoiding knocking over a nearby coat stand with his big fur cloak hanging on it. “Or whatever it is in the Nether. I will destroy it. With great ease.”

“I’m sure you will,” Jack said, rolling his eyes fondly.

“So fucking ready.” He ceased fooling around and looked up at Jack again. “And when are _you_ leaving?”  
  
“Tonight!” He was already packed for the trip, had been for days now, waiting for the message telling him the time had finally come - there were just a couple more things to sort out with Lindsay, first.

A wide grin spread across Michael’s face. He stepped toward Jack, something different in his eyes now.

“Good,” he said, quietly. “It’ll be nice to see you in person after all… all this.”

He gestured around the chamber; the bed where he’d spent too long over the last few months, the roaring fire that’d kept him warm through his fevers and chills, the room Jack knew he’d grown so sick of. 

“I’m looking forward to it,” Jack replied warmly, but Michael bit his lip.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “You didn’t have to visit every single day.”

“I wanted to.” 

“I appreciate it. It made the time pass a lot quicker. After the temple guardian, I… I was scared,” Michael admitted, rubbing awkwardly at his arm. “And I don’t normally get scared. But it drained my magic and I could feel how… how _weak_ I was. Helpless, I suppose. And the bond, too - I could barely feel all of you. I had gotten used to that, so it was… isolating. I guess.” 

There was an oddly serious note in his voice. It made something well in Jack’s chest; he never wanted to see any of them hurt. 

“So having you here every day really helped,” Michael continued. “Made it less lonely. I mean, Ray and Gav visited, but still. It’s too far away for anyone to stay.”

“It wasn’t a chore,” Jack said, softly. “I enjoy your company, Michael. And I really liked being able to spend more time with you, despite the circumstances. But I’ll see you in person very soon.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be nice having everyone in the same spot,” Michael agreed. “We haven’t since the Wild, since…” _Geoff._ “But you saw Gavin?”  
  
“Yes! He came to the Plains to help me retrieve the Netherrack from some of the temples there. But he’s the only one. I’ve seen the others in the Sight, but… it’s not the same.” 

“Still. It’s been good working together these last few months,” Michael commented, only to shake himself. “But I’ll save the sentimentalities.”

  
“No, you’re right,” Jack agreed. It had honestly been everything he’d hoped for before Geoff’s death; the kingdoms united, contributing what they could to balance one another out. No conflict, no fear, just peace and unity and _progress_ , and he hoped that even if this quest was very specific to one cause, the people of every kingdom could see the benefit of what had been going on. “And now the others are all coming here. Coming _home_.”

  
They smiled at one another. After a moment Michael reached out, and Jack did too. There was something longing in it; a movement that’d been made a hundred times before - but to no avail. As always, their hands passed right through one another. No warmth, no touch, no proper contact. But still - if they held them very close, it _looked_ like they were touching, and Jack held onto the hope that soon they really would be.

 

* * *

 

It was a relief to wash off the sand, and sweat, and heat of travel. The blood that’d caked him, growing uncomfortably itchy the entire ride back home. Now as Ray emerged from the washroom, his hair dripping a little, finally feeling _clean_ , he paused at the sound of the mourning songs echoing faintly through the city from the distant temples. Something tugged deep in his chest. Too many had died today, but the stab of guilt, anger, _sadness_ that he felt was dull - the blade worn away from too much use. 

Ray sighed, running a hand through his damp hair. He was too tired to feel much, right now at least. But there was no time to stop and reflect on things. The quest was about to _begin_ , and he had to be prepared.

He headed out into the hallway. The king’s private section of the palace was eerily silent, but the entire palace was cool and airy, friendly sunlight spilling in through the great glass windows. There were memories in these halls - he remembered running through these floors as a child, with Michael alongside him - slipping and sliding along the polished floorboards, hiding behind the giant decorative pot plants. Showing Michael the sights of the Desert, to the other boy’s amazement, used as he was to nothing but the Alps’ frozen wastes. 

Ray bit his lip. He also remembered the awkward tension that’d filled these chambers around the time of their marriage. How the quarters had seemed terribly small even though they were actually enormous, as he wanted nothing more than to avoid the other man. 

But those days seemed long ago, now. 

Closing his eyes, Ray reached out and poked at Michael gently with his mind, sending a wave of love and affection through the bond. Michael sent it back, and Ray couldn’t help but smile. The other man was getting stronger with his magic, then. It was a relief. Ray had hated not being able to feel him properly after the temple guardian fiasco. 

Still. He let the connection go after a moment, too exhausted to keep the magic up. Today he’d already overstretched his gift, and it had made his nerves feel raw at the edges, like anything more would overwhelm him. Aching all over, he threw on a loose shirt as he headed for his room, intending to nap before packing for their trip tomorrow, only to pause. 

The door to Gavin’s guest room was open. He was sitting shirtless on the bed, drying his hair. Ray noticed dark bruises over his sides and up and down his arms, a mottled patchwork of various grim colours; yellow, green, navy, like a violent sunset. Against his skin there were funny little circular marks, nearly black and placed at oddly regular intervals.

With a frown, he approached and rapped at the door frame. Gavin looked up with a sleepy smile. In the sunlight spilling through the window behind him, lighting the edges of his hair golden like a candle’s glow, Ray suddenly adored him. 

“Hey,” he said gently, inching into the room. “You doing alright?”

Gavin nodded, lowering the cloth he’d been using to dry himself.

“I need to sleep,” he replied, slumping over onto his side on the bed, pillowing his head with one arm - a lazy, sprawling motion that suddenly reminded Ray of a cat. “But yeah, I’m fine.”

“You eat yet?”

“No, but I’m too tired.”

Ray settled on the bed next to him, the mattress shifting under their shared weight. He reached out almost on impulse and touched Gavin’s stomach, fingers tracing over the funny, dark marks. Gavin didn’t pull away, but Ray saw his muscles bunch and flex under his touch.

“What are these?” he asked. “Does it hurt?”

“A bit,” Gavin replied. “Don’t poke them or anything. I think they’re from where that kraken grabbed me and threw me. But they’ll heal.” 

He tilted his head back to grin at Ray, upside down, and Ray smiled back at him.

“We made it out,” he said, and wasn’t sure if it was himself or Gavin he was trying to reassure. “We have all the pieces. Time to bring Geoff back, at last.”

Gavin nodded, but there was something funny in his face, and he’d gone quiet. 

“You excited?” Ray pressed, and Gavin bit his lip. He sat up properly beside Ray, their legs pressed together with how close they were.

“Yeah, but…” he trailed off, swallowed - darted a nervous glance at Ray - then admitted, “Scared.”

  
“About what?” Ray asked. He reached out and slipped a hand into Gavin’s - a nonchalant move, but his heart pounded even if he didn’t let it show. Gavin didn’t pull away.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Gavin whispered. He wasn’t looking at Ray - his shoulders hunched up as though he feared just giving voice to these thoughts would make them come true. Since he arrived here in the Desert he’d been set on their quest, filled with a brash determination that had kept everybody else on task, too. This sudden vulnerability took Ray aback a little. “What if we… we did all this and we can’t bring him back? What if we’re too late and he didn’t realise we were coming and he’s already moved on into permanent death? There would be no way we could tell. I have nightmares about it, Ray.”

Ray bit his lip. He felt cold suddenly, despite the warm sunlight against their back, and the faint chanting of the mourning prayers in the background seemed ominous.

“It will work,” was all he could repeat. “It _will_.”  
  
“You can’t _know_ that.”

“I know this,” Ray said, firmly. “Whatever happens, we’ll make it through together. At least we’ll have _tried_.”

It was the sort of reassuring but empty sentiment that was usually best left to Jack; Ray wasn’t sure when he’d started sounding like the other man. But it was what Gavin needed to hear right now, when they were so close to their goal. Not Ray’s own doubts, own cynicism. 

Still. He seemed uncertain, and Ray put an arm around him, hugging him closer, thumb rubbing soothingly against his bare shoulder.

“Come on,” he urged. “Don’t lose hope now. We’ve come so far that we might as well finish this off.”

“You’re right,” Gavin murmured, numbly, and leaned against Ray’s side. There was a funny, silent pause - nothing left in the conversation to play out, but something unfinished hanging in the air. Finally, Gavin sighed. 

“It’ll be good to see the others again,” he announced, apparently deciding that just fucking changing the topic was the best course of action. “Especially Ryan! Since I left the Stoneworld and the Wild to help the rest of you, I haven’t really spoken to him.”

“You fixed all your differences then?” Ray asked, amused. 

He hadn’t caught up much with the others. Jack had visited in the Sight a few times, and he’d gone to see MIchael - but the thought of Ryan made his heart race. It really had been too long. 

A funny sort of smirk tugged at Gavin’s lips.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he replied. 

Ray raised his eyebrows. His mind wandered, dreamily - settling on thoughts of the two of them down in Ryan’s lab, heads bent studiously together over maps and plans. Hours spent under lustful red light, alone but for the golems. That simmering tension that always seemed to hang between the two of them resolving itself in other ways. Gavin’s little smile made him think something more had gone on than just science experiments.

Still. He didn’t comment, just laughed and tugged Gavin closer.

“Well, I’m glad you’re getting along now,” he commented.

“After last time’s drama?” Gavin snorted. “Definitely.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing him too,” Ray replied, and gave a heavy sigh. “It just… it sucks that there’s so much distance between all of us. It makes it hard to ever do… well, _anything_ , really, when it takes weeks to travel anywhere.”

Gavin hummed agreement. Another silence, this one more peaceful.

“Do you miss the Wild?” Ray couldn’t help asking. The last six months had been chaotic, but for Gavin most of all. He’d been on the move nearly constantly.

“A little,” Gavin replied, and hesitated. “But… I don’t know. It still doesn’t _quite_ feel like home. It does in some ways, but not in others. Then again. I’m not sure where home is anymore.” 

“You know you’re welcome here any time you like,” Ray murmured, without really thinking about it. 

Gavin’s lips twitched again.

“Appreciate it,” he said. He was toying with Ray’s hand, tangling their fingers in and out of each other. Ray looked down at them, then up at Gavin’s face. 

Now that their mission was over and they had all of the Netherrack, he was free to actually pay attention to Gavin rather than the quest - to focus on other things. Like how much he’d missed Gavin before he came to help out. How great it had been to see him for that first time, riding into the Desert court, suntanned and windswept - his clothes dusty from travel, but grinning widely. His glowing green eyes like an oasis amongst all the sand.

And how having him come along on the quest had been great, too. They’d travelled to the Alps together, and out to various temples, and they’d been busy and too tired to do much else than flop down next to one another at the end of long days- 

But now all of that settled into something else, something easy and peaceful.

“Hey,” Ray began, hesitantly - letting the thoughts he’d pushed away to the back of his mind while they were working float back into the forefront. “When we go to the Alps…”

“Hm?” Gavin asked, absently, turning to look at him. “Michael will be there. You must miss him.”  
  
“I missed all of you,” Ray replied.

“Yes,” Gavin said, and his eyes crinkled with amusement. “But _he’s_ your _husband._ ” 

“I know,” Ray snorted. “And I’ll be glad to see him, of course. I think he’ll be happy to see you again, too. Just like _I_ was happy to see you.”

“I’m very flattered,” Gavin replied, and Ray’s eyes narrowed. Something in Gavin’s voice gave him the impression he was being deliberately obtuse.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “It’ll be good to have a chance just to sit down and… catch up.” 

Gavin stared at him. Gaining some hidden confidence, Ray let his hand shift down to the other man’s hip instead, warm and sharp under his fingers. He was suddenly acutely aware that Gavin still had no shirt on. Gavin seemed to realise at the same time; his breath caught a little before he glanced up at Ray with lidded eyes.

“Is this your idea of catching up?” he asked, voice teasing but careful. “Because it’s very… _interesting_.”  

“I thought you were hurt earlier,” Ray said quietly, and Gavin’s face softened. “Badly, Gavin. I was scared.”

Gavin bit his lip. Ray stared at him earnestly. It had been six months, and they’d all been busy, and even when he and Gavin went to visit Michael after his injury, nothing had been _said_. They’d been too preoccupied, too worried. But he still remembered the kiss they had shared, and everything else that had happened.

Gavin’s eyes were half-shut, something almost dreamy in them. He didn’t pull away as Ray trailed a hand up his neck - his skin was very warm, and Ray could feel his pulse pounding away. Gavin closed his eyes when Ray pressed a thumb in against it.

“Have you talked to Michael about this?” Gavin asked, eyes shut but voice very firm.

“Extensively,” Ray informed him, with a smile. 

“ _Extensively!”_ Gavin exclaimed. His eyes snapped open. “Well then.”

Encouraged, Ray grinned wider. He’d been waiting for this, but the mission had gotten in the way.

“He in fact,” he informed Gavin, “Gave me express permission…” His hand shifted around the back of Gavin’s neck, fingers curling into the too-long hair at the nape of his neck, “To do…” A light tug that made Gavin tilt his head back a little, exposing the long line of his neck, still glistening from his bath, “Anything I liked with you.”

“How’s that, then?” Gavin asked, still quite careful, but leaning into the pressure of Ray’s hand.

“On one condition,” Ray said. “That when we get back to the Alps he gets the same privilege.”

“I see,” Gavin said. “And how about _me_ , then?”

“Only if you want to,” Ray assured him. He started to pull back, waiting for Gavin to take the lead - but before he could get far, Gavin reached out and grabbed his wrist. His eyes met Ray’s, bright with clear _permission_ in them, and Ray leaned in and kissed him, cradling the back of his head as he pushed him back against the bed.  

Gavin was easy and pliant under his touch. He tasted like coconut water, and against the dark sheets of the bed his hair looked brighter, golden almost, sun-bleached and shimmering. Ray pulled back, pressed in, tangled his fingers in Gavin’s again and pinned one hand to the bed above his head. His other ran over Gavin’s chest, mapping the bumps and ridges of ribs, the rough texture of scars, scraping gently over the dark bruises. Above all, relishing the blazing heat of their bodies against one another, reminding him how they were both _alive, alive, alive_.  

The tug of magic surged strong between them again, flooding his veins with a welcome energy. It was always more intense with Gavin. He ducked his head to the other’s neck, teeth scraping Gavin’s skin as he sucked gently. Gavin let out a strangled sort of gasp, and when Ray looked up the other man’s eyes were shining like beacons and he had to sit up and laugh.

“What?” Gavin squawked, looking a bit startled by the sudden loss of touch.

“Your fucking _eyes_ ,” Ray scoffed, shaking his head helplessly.

Gavin scowled. His cheeks were flushed with two bright spots of red. He reached up and covered his eyes with one hand.

“Bugger off,” he replied, sounding embarrassed.

“I’ll bugger something,” Ray teased. He leaned in again but Gavin stopped him with a gentle hand to his chest.

“Maybe not when we’re both injured,” he pointed out, but the hand he trailed fondly up Ray’s arm curbed any disappointment. He curled it around Ray’s neck, sitting up properly so he could lean in to kiss him again, sweetly, before he sighed and rested his head against Ray’s shoulder. The heat of the moment over, Ray let them settle into silence again.

His heart was racing, adrenaline surging through him.

He’d been focused on Geoff the last six months. Of course he had. He missed the other man and wanted him back - but he’d thought a lot about the others, too. He’d _wanted_ this, and just like finishing gathering the Netherrack, part of him was still processing that it’d actually _happened._ Even now, everywhere that Gavin’s skin pressed against his seemed to tingle.

After a moment, Gavin turned his head, his nose poking into Ray’s arm.

“You and Michael really had that conversation, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ray assured him. “He was weak, but he… he wanted to talk about you.” That part was almost a lie by omission. _Not just about Gavin. About_ all _of us._ He didn’t say that yet, still wasn’t quite sure. “I mean, all three of us are gonna be in the same spot, finally. Michael was injured last time we were both in the Alps, so he didn’t really feel up to doing anything. But this time - things are gonna change. With you and me and him.” 

“You and me and him,” Gavin repeated thoughtfully.

“Whether we find Geoff or not. If you want.” And now his awkwardness was back, because Gavin’s face was hard to read, and his voice was so soft Ray couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Maybe what had happened in the Wild had been a fluke, and over the last six months Gavin had changed his mind - maybe they’d completely misread things.  

“I want,” Gavin told him, but then hesitated. “But… the others will be there, too. Jack, Ryan. Geoff, once we get him back.”

“Yeah, but I’m not talking about them right now,” Ray replied. “I just mean between us three.”

“They’re involved, Ray.” Gavin’s tone was gentle but firm, and Ray sighed. Of course, he knew, this could never be so simple, not with so many of them involved. 

“How about you and Jack, then?” he asked. “Have you talked about any of this?” 

To his surprise, Gavin’s face shuttered over, and he shifted away from Ray a little on the bed.

“Yeah, um…” he reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Things are complicated there.” 

“What?” Ray asked, taken aback. “Jack didn’t say anything about that!” 

Gavin just shrugged, drawing his knees up and curling his arms around them - something defensive in it. He didn’t elaborate further, and Ray stared at him.

“I talked to him in the Sight a couple of times,” he continued, “And he seemed just fine! Told me he was excited to see you again when you were on your way over here. Didn’t you go to visit him earlier?” 

“Yep,” Gavin replied, popping the _p_ , and declined to expand further.

“What’s complicated mean?” Ray pressed. 

Gavin just shook his head, slowly.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, and sighed. “It’ll… it’ll be better once we’re all in the same room, you know? We can sort out any problems then.” 

“Okay…” Ray trailed off, a bit unsettled now. He’d been relaxed before - _excited -_ now he felt worried about the possibility of more drama happening. But after a moment, Gavin shifted closer to him, and rested a hand on his shoulder. Ray stroked a hand through his hair.

“Hey,” he murmured. “It’s all gonna be fine. Besides, let’s not get carried away and forget the point of all this.”

Gavin hummed in agreement.

“Geoff,” he whispered, and Ray nodded, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to his hair.

“Geoff.”

 

* * *

 

With an exhausted grunt, Geoff swung the pickaxe for what had to be the thousandth time. Black crystals, lining the cavern wall in hanging stalactites, shattered and fell to the ground in front of him. He paused for a moment, catching his breath and swiping at his brow. 

It was sweltering here in the Nether mines. He might have been dead, but he could still feel pain and exhaustion. Apparently that didn’t fucking go away in this weird afterlife. Figured that he wouldn’t catch a break even after giving up the damn ghost. His back and shoulders ached from the repetitive swinging of the axe, from hours and hours of labour with no end.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he died.

It felt like forever, but maybe time passed here differently. There was no day or night, and everything blurred into one after a while. Maybe it had been days. Maybe it had been years - centuries, even. He had no way of telling, under the hellish red sky and constant _heat_.  

But since Tamora Haywood told him there was a way to escape this place - he’d been hanging onto that hope, clinging to his strength rather than let himself grow weak and fade away so that he’d become useless and allowed to float freely away to some other, final rest. 

He looked down at his pickaxe, took a deep breath, and swung it again. Around him, similar _clang, clang, clangs_ rang out from the other miners. There were so many of them, hundreds of bodies crammed into the cavern. 

 _Anyone who has magic in them._ Tamora had explained it all to him. He’d met a few witches from their world here, but they’d all since passed through. Everyone else was from other realms, that existed alongside the Nether and the End - including, to his surprise, creatures that reminded him of the Endermen themselves, shadows with glowing purple eyes. And others, too - piglike creatures with mottled flesh that walked upright, others that looked human but didn’t come from their kingdoms; they all spoke different tongues, and Geoff had never interacted with any of them extensively. The city was mostly populated with those from these other realms. Few had magic in his world aside from the kings. 

 _Crash. Crash._ The pickaxes were rhythmic as a ticking clock. Sometimes he’d count them, up to ridiculously high numbers each day. 

_Find the door._ That was what Geoff kept telling himself, the only thing he could cling to through this nightmare. The door that supposedly led back to their world, that would resurrect him. He had no idea what would happen if he returned. Maybe he was already skeletal and rotted. Maybe the others had burned him. Maybe it was futile. But he had to _try._

_Find the door._  

 _Find the door._  

 _Escape the city. Find the door._  

That would be the hard part. Himself, the Stone queen, and the Wild king had all been sneaking about trying to meet up with one another to make their plans. But the Overlord kept a close guard over his subjects, and if they ever left the city for too long, he’d know.

Finally he’d filled the wheelbarrow with the glimmering black crystals. He began to push it back through the winding mazes of caverns towards the storeroom where they’d be taken and processed, passing others hard at work, only to pause when he moved alone through a rocky hallway and saw Tamora coming towards him, dragging her own cart of crystals. 

“We have a problem,” she hissed, as they passed each other.

“What?” Geoff whispered back. They paused, Tamora bending over his cart as though inspecting his load, trying to look busy to anyone who might be passing by.  

He still never got quite used to seeing the Stone queen around the place, even though they’d been working together a while now. Something about her deteriorating appearance was unsettling, like she was flaking away more and more every time he saw her - she should’ve long passed on by now, but she clung to life as stubbornly as a clam on a rock, refusing to be washed away by the tides. Geoff sometimes wondered if he was starting to look like that too - worn down and pale and more dead than alive - and just hadn’t noticed it yet. 

“The magical leashes we made?” she spat. “You left one lying around in the forge and the Overlord fucking found it! He’s coming here now to see who’s been stealing magic!”

“It wasn’t me!” Geoff protested.

“It absolutely was you,” she shot back. “ _I_ certainly did not do it.”

“It was Weisheng then,” Geoff snapped, “He’s careless!”

“Yeah, well, we’re dead meat,” she informed him, eyes burning furiously as she glared at him. “Except we’re already dead meat. _Deader_ meat. Gods, I should have just done this myself instead of bringing you fools in on it.”

“Hey, the whole plan was my fucking idea!” Geoff replied, holding onto anger to cover the dread building up in his gut. The Overlord’s ignorance of the fact that anyone was even _trying_ to escape was the only hope they had of things actually working out. 

Tamora snorted, tossing her hair.

“You just built on what I’d already been working on for _years_ ,” she informed him. 

“No I didn’t. Gods, you’re insufferable. I would stab you,” Geoff hissed, furiously, “If you weren’t already dead.”

“I wish I’d killed you while you were still alive,” she shot back. “I would have thrown you out a window as a baby when I came to the Plains for your naming ceremony.” 

“I would’ve put poison in your pie that time you came to visit,” Geoff snapped. “And _shit_. I would’ve dropped a fucking deuce myself just to get you to fucking _eat it_.”  

They sneered at one another. Finally, Tamora turned away angrily. 

“Either way, he’s coming here,” she said, sourly. “So for the gods’ sake don’t give anything else away.”

“I already said it wasn’t me, you haggard bitch!” 

Before they could fight any further, the cavern trembled, and there rang out the thunderous rumbling that always spoke of the Overlord approaching. Tamora slipped away with a final muttered curse, and Geoff reached up and rubbed at his temples.

Gods above. They’d been working together to get out of here and back to their world, but he could see why Ryan hated her so much. Why they’d _all_ hated her when she was alive, and she was no better dead. Imagine living with that twenty four seven - imagine being _related_ to it. He shuddered at the thought. 

Shoulders hunched and heart pounding, he headed on with his work as the thunder grew louder until it was a continuous, deafening drone that drowned out every other sound. 

 _He will not kill you._ The last thing the Overlord wanted was to _release_ anyone from the torment he kept them in. But pain - pain was something else, something they all could still feel here. And as the Overlord strode into the mines, every footstep making the ground tremble, Geoff was afraid - afraid that their plans would be discovered and ruined, that all this would have been for nothing.  

The mines were large, the ceilings high, specifically so that this monstrosity could walk through them. An enormous, humanoid creature, he had red skin licked over with constant, crackling flames. He could fly, could spit fire, and had a long, lashing tongue like a snake and great curled horns like a devil. His skin strained with bulging veins, and Geoff had always thought he looked rather like he was constantly on the brink of suddenly and spontaneously exploding. He wasn’t like the beasts - didn’t feel quite so _wrong_ \- but there was something else unsettling about him. A coiled sense of danger and potential _pain_.   

He wasn’t sure _what_ the Overlord was. A demon perhaps. Or a god - a real one this time? No fucking clue - all he knew was that he was sick of seeing the thing’s enormous crimson ass wandering all over the place. Especially since he wore no clothes and there was something rather violating about seeing the guy’s giant dangling balls coming towards you all the time, accompanied by ominous rumbling thunder. Like seriously. Would it be so hard to at least put on a loincloth? 

 _“Everyone!”_ The deep voice boomed out in their _minds_ more than actually, physically in the space they were in. “Come here. _Now_.”  

Every creature in the mines stumbled to obey - the Ender shadows clicking worriedly to one another, the pigmen gobbling fearfully. Others, indescribable species, gathering as everyone moved to the big entrance hall of the mines where the Overlord waited. 

Geoff stood near the back of the group, trying not to draw attention himself. He glanced around and saw the Wild king, Weisheng, standing a little way away, looking rather pale and guilty. Their eyes met, but Geoff glanced away quickly, not wanting to give away who might be working together. 

When everyone had arrived, a tense silence fell, broken only by the occasional crackle of the flames that danced over the Overlord’s body. Finally, he held up a long cord, shimmering with dark magic. 

“I found this the other day,” he announced. Once again his voice rang out through everyone’s minds as well as their ears. Geoff grimaced at the sight of the magical leash.  
  
They’d been working on them for a while - trying to find a way to bring the enormous, explosive Ghast that drifted around the land into the city to cause the destruction and havoc they needed in order to make a quiet escape. The leash had been his idea, and Tamora’s design - her experience with redstone had helped her work out how to use the crystals of black magic in the Nether to forge a rope that could capture a Ghast. Luckily, if no one knew its purpose, it would be hard to guess.

“I don’t know what this is,” the Overlord continued, “Or what it’s meant to be for, but it seems clear to me that someone here is planning something nefarious, and they are stealing _my_ magic crystals to do it! Who will own up to this felony?” 

A long, awkward silence. You could have heard a pin drop.

“Well?” The Overlord demanded.

He clenched his fist, and the leash burst into flames, like a long whip of fire. That really was not much of an incentive for anyone to admit their guilt, if Geoff was quite honest. 

“I will send _all_ of you to the furnace, if no one speaks up!” he threatened. 

_The furnace._ Geoff’s heart clenched. The mines were bad enough, and if they were sent down there, it would be impossible to escape.

The Overlord began to pace up and down, bending down low to peer into people’s faces, searching for signs of guilt. When he passed Tamora, she gazed back at him, coldly.  

Weisheng, on the other hand, looked on the verge of shitting himself. He’d give them away to avoid the furnace, Geoff knew. The Overlord, sensing his fear, paused in front of him. 

 _He’ll sell us out_ , Geoff thought furiously - _he’ll take the punishment. He’s not as motivated to escape as Haywood and I are._  

“You,” the Overlord began, and Weisheng’s eyes widened. Geoff swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Before he could second guess himself, he stepped forward.

“Wait! It was me,” he called out, loudly.

With a growl, the Overlord turned towards him. Tamora’s head whipped around, too. 

_Idiot_ , she mouthed, but Geoff ignored her.

“Oh my,” the Overlord said. He strode towards him, so close that Geoff’s skin felt like it was blistering in the intense heat radiating from the creature’s body. His giant, red, _naked_ body, fucking _Gods,_ he was fucking crotch level here. If the light from the flames didn’t blind him, the sight of that big red cock would. Just kill him now, oh wait, he was already fucking _dead_.

“King Ramsey,” the Overlord drawled. He bent down low, which was rather a relief, since Geoff could now stare at his gruesome face instead of his gruesome penis. “So _noble_ , so willing to _sacrifice_ yourself for others. But look at you now.”

A finger reached out and poked his cheek, turning his face roughly to the side, mockingly. The touch burned, and Geoff gritted his teeth.

“Not so royal now, are you?” the Overlord taunted, and raised the leash in one swift motion. “Pray tell, what was _this_ for?” 

“I don’t even know,” Geoff replied, feigning stupidity. “Just playing around with magic. Hoped to use it to find a way to mine faster. Collapse the crystals on the wall or some shit. Reduce my sentence by working harder. _Efficiency_ , you know?”

“You will be staying here a long, long time after this stunt,” the Overlord warned. “Now, what should I do with you? I could send you to work in the furnace. Or, since you’re so set on mining _efficiently_ , I could punish you immediately and then let you stay here. What will it be?” 

There was a threatening note in his voice, and Geoff swallowed. He could feel Tamora’s piercing eyes watching him from the crowd - Weisheng staring at him with a guilty, sidelong glance.

“I’ll take the punishment now,” he said, quietly.

“Say please,” the Overlord demanded.

He swallowed his pride - what little was left of it after so long in this place.

“Please,” he croaked out, and braced himself.

The Overlord swung the leash like a whip. It was dancing with flames and it cracked across Geoff’s chest, sending a searing, sizzling flash of pain through him, a mixture of magic and fire and pure _agony_. He collapsed to his knees with a shout.

The Overlord laughed, loudly, and lashed down again - and _again_ , a series of raining, terrible blows, each one wracking Geoff with new fire. His vision flashed black; he was dimly aware of the crowd murmuring and hissing in sympathy. The pain was blinding. It felt like he was literally burning in the fires of hell. 

He could hear himself, too - screaming, dimly, like he was listening to someone else. But he gritted his teeth, even as he shuddered and writhed. 

He could deal with suffering if it meant coming back to life later on. If it meant seeing the others again. 

He was getting out of here.

Whatever it took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fantastic fanart from previous stories! Thank you so much <3
>
>> [ Chibi Gavin by troublehunting ](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/154548285114/troublehunting-human-beings-in-a-mob-whats-a)
>> 
>> [ Animated Gavin by tmvagabond ](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/153227903319/tmvagabond-okay-so-i-learned-how-to-use)
>> 
>> [Scenes from WTLG by pasywasy](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/152910530194/pasywasy-whalehuntingboyfriends-s-beautiful)
>> 
>> [King Michael and King Gavin by sexy-death-eater](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/152265624879/sexy-death-eater-an-exercise-in-kings-for)  
> 
>> 
>> [ King Gavin by ibingehardonfanfics ](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/150405348879/ibingehardonfanfics-finally-got-around-to)
> 
>  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got too long, so I've split it in two. The second half of it will be up Christmas night <3

Michael’s stomach was tight and filled with butterflies as he stood waiting for the others to arrive.

There wasn’t much fanfare in the city, not like there usually was when there was going to be a royal visit. Everyone was too busy preparing supplies and building for the winter - and by this point, they’d seen the kings coming in and out numerous times before, so that Michael had told them to simply not bother with the festivities.

_Ray_ , he thought longingly, as he wrung his hands together, standing in the cold, fresh air outside the fortress gates, staring longingly down the mountainside. Waiting for the sight of his husband’s face to come up the trail.

But not just Ray.

_Gavin_. His memories of the other man’s visit were hazy, clouded by fever and pain - mostly green eyes and soothing magic. Those had been odd days - he’d lain, drifting between sleep and waking, the room seeming too hot, closing in around him, and his mind cut off from the others. He’d felt empty, lost in darkness, and it had been hard to focus even when he knew the others were in the room with him.

Finally, after it felt like he’d been waiting forever, he heard the clipping of hooves on stone and perked up as finally he saw them proceeding up the mountainside - a colourful band of soldiers, attendants and finally the kings themselves. The dark, hairy back of Gavin’s great spider, the swaying motion of some of the camels they’d brought to carry their supplies - he felt his face split into an eager grin, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet as they approached.

Ray was at the head of the party. When he came in sight of Michael, he smiled broadly and waved. Michael’s heart swelled at the sight of him.

Ray had changed a lot, even over the last six months. No longer was he the young, soft-faced prince Michael had known as a boy, nor was he the quiet, careful, genteel king who’d participated in the games and lost so miserably in the swordfighting session. Stress and hard work had worn him lean, and he’d grown a full, dark beard that made him look older. Michael liked the change. He liked how Ray’s bright red robes stood out amongst the snowy, pale Alps and the more confident glimmer in his dark eyes.

Gavin looked different too. Outside the magic of the Wild he looked less fey-like, his eyes a more muted olive. He had the air of an adventurer now, wrapped in the robes of the Desert but still with his creeper skin scarf, bearing a redstone torch at his belt but a brooch with the Plains insignia keeping his cloak in place. He was not so pale and thin as he’d been last Michael saw him, seemed strong and golden from time spent riding for leagues under the bright sun. He bounced excitedly atop the spider’s back when he noticed Michael, and waved furiously. Michael laughed, waving back.

“At last!” he cried, stepping forward to meet them as they finally pulled up in the drive.

Ray leapt off his horse and straight into his arms, throwing himself forward and hugging Michael tightly. Michael hugged him back, squeezing him hard and spinning him around, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder and sucking in the familiar smell of roses and Desert salt, so essentially _Ray_.

For a long moment they held one another, rocking back and forth, no thought in Michael’s mind save overwhelming _relief_ that the other man was here with him again. He could feel Ray trembling, letting out little hysterical laughs. When they finally faded they pulled away a little and their eyes met. Michael couldn’t stop smiling, even as he leaned in and kissed Ray, sweet and passionate - familiar by now, but still too long since their last.

When they broke apart, Ray reached out and cupped his cheek.

“Quite a greeting,” he said, and Michael scoffed.

“I missed you, asshole.”

"I know. I missed you too,” Ray replied. Then added, cheekily, “Asshole.”

Michael rolled his eyes. He turned towards Gavin, who’d dismounted and was standing nearby, watching them with a fond grin. Michael reached out and grabbed his wrist, tugging him forward. There was a slightly awkward pause as their faces got close - a moment when Michael almost wanted to kiss him too, enchanted as always by his witchy eyes and tangled wild hair, by the weird urge he always got around the other man to do something mischievous and spontaneous. 

But he couldn’t do it now, not so suddenly, and instead he pulled Gavin into a fierce hug. Felt Gavin hug him back, the cold point of his nose pressing into the crook of Michael’s neck.

“Nice to see you too,” Michael mumbled, and felt Gavin huff against him.

“Likewise, Michael,” he groaned, and Michael couldn’t help his wide, fond smile at the familiar way Gavin’s voice wrapped around his name.

They pulled apart, and if Gavin glanced at his lips as they did, Michael couldn’t quite tell, it happened so fast. Ray was already speaking again.

“No one else here yet?” he asked.

“Well, your kingdom’s the closest,” Michael pointed out. “It’d be mathematically impossible for anyone else to get here sooner.”

“Maybe Ryan invented a way to teleport,” Gavin piped up. “Maybe he used Ender Pearls to do it.”  
  
“We should use those more,” Michael said. “It’d make things a lot faster. But anyway - come inside, come inside. You must be cold out here.”

Spring in the Alps was mild this year, but he knew the others still wouldn’t be used to the cold. He ushered them into the fortress, and as they began to walk, Ray reached out and took his hand. Michael glanced at him and smiled, squeezing his hand as Ray pressed close to his side.

“How are you feeling?” the other man asked, quietly.

“A lot better now,” Michael assured him. 

“You feel stronger,” Gavin added - Michael grinned; feeling the warm glow of magic spread through him when the others got close had been a relief, reassuring him that he hadn’t lost his connection with them after all. That his magic really was back now.

“What happened the other week?” he asked, turning to Gavin. “I felt you get hurt. Thought you were dead for a minute.”

“Ah yeah,” Gavin said. “Giant octopus monster in that final temple. It nearly drowned me. Looks like sealife is both our downfalls,” he added with a laugh.

“Oh gods, for sure. Gonna eat so much fucking seafood.”

“Good,” Gavin laughed. “I want to as well. _Revenge!_ But yeah, Ray saved me.”

Michael looked over at Ray with a pleased smile, just in time to see him and Gavin exchange a little glance. There was something else in it, something that made Michael raise an eyebrow, wondering.

“You know,” he added, thoughtfully, “When I was injured, Jack came to see me every day in the Sight.”

Gavin looked over at him. Something flickered across his face.

“Oh,” he said. “Did he?”

“Yeah,” Michael replied, and grinned. “It was good! I’m really excited to see him!”

Gavin didn’t answer, and Michael didn’t think much of it, at least until Ray squeezed his hand. He looked at the other man questioningly, but before anyone could say anything more, they arrived in the throne room. Michael crossed to the big planning table and showed them the map he’d drawn up.

“The centre of our world,” he said, pointing. “It’s a little way from the Capital, but it shouldn’t take us too long to get out there. It’s through this mountain pass, in the middle of a frozen lake. My men have already been sent out to set up a camp, take the supplies there and prepare the ground.”

Ray nodded. He slung a pack off his shoulders and pulled out the final piece of Netherrack, placing it on the table alongside the map. It wasn’t glowing so much now, and looked just like a rough hewn chunk of red rock, but Michael could feel the otherworldly power emanating from it.

“Here’s our last piece,” Ray said. “You have the others already.”

“I’ve summoned the Wild creatures,” Gavin added. “They’re on their way. I’ll direct them to the lake rather than the city so they don’t scare anyone.”

Michael nodded. Seeing everything beginning to come together really drove it home that this was _happening_ , that soon they actually would be crossing into another world. _Going to find Geoff._ It was exciting. And fucking terrifying, all at the same time.

“Now we’re just waiting for Ryan to put it all together,” he said. “And Jack to come in with us. There isn’t a lot to do until they get here. They’re getting closer - or should be.”

The others nodded. Gavin was staring down at the map, his hand trailing around the bare white area that Michael had drawn a red _X_ on. Michael had expected more jokes from him, more snarky comments, but he was silent, his brows furrowed a little. It cast an odd, almost gloomy solemnity over the rest of them.

“We’ll eat together tonight,” he added, when no one spoke. “For now, you might like to go and rest.”

Gavin stirred.

“I might do that, actually,” he murmured. “I’m pretty beat.”

“Your room’s the same as last time you were here,” Michael said. “You know where it is?”

Gavin nodded. He gave them a tired smile before trailing out of the room. Michael watched him go, and once he was out of sight, turned to Ray.

“He seems quieter than usual,” he commented, and Ray sighed. He let go of Michael’s hand to rub at his face, tiredly.

“He’s worried about Geoff coming back,” he replied. “Or, well, _not_ coming back.”

“Fuck,” Michael breathed. He’d been trying not to think about that rather grim possibility. “I mean, we all are, but there’s no sense stressing over it. We’ll try our best. That’s all we can do, right?”

Ray just hummed. He looked concerned as well, and Michael reached out and pressed his arm, trying to comfort him but not quite knowing how. This wasn’t the sort of situation you encountered every day, after all. Life, death, rebirth - a lot was at stake here. _Geoff. Us._

Still. They’d done all they could. All that was left now was to wait and find out if it had all been for nothing. And that was fucking scary, and Michael sure didn’t want to think about it.

“Come on,” he said, tugging at Ray’s arm. “Let’s make up for lost time then. It’s been too long since I last saw you.”

Ray laughed.

“Glad you’ve got your energy back,” he said, and Michael huffed and took his hand, leading him away up to his personal quarters.

 

* * *

 

Later. They lay together on the warm bed, tucked under the thick covers against the brisk chill of the Alps as the sun set. Michael had long grown sick of this bed after spending week after week too weak to leave it, but with Ray beside him, head on his chest, fingers trailing over his stomach tracing old scars, he felt like he never wanted to leave.

“Is your strength back?” Ray whispered. His hand settled flat over Michael’s heart, palm pressed down, waiting for each pounding thump.

“For the most part,” Michael replied. He clenched a fist in the air, flexing his muscles before letting his arm drop back to the mattress. “Enough to go to the Nether. I’ll be fine, Ray. I’ve been training with my men these last few weeks.”

“Good,” Ray replied, and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder before snuggling against his side again. “I’ve been using my magic more and more lately. Not just to grow things. To fight and shit as well. I’m getting better at it.”

Michael smiled, fondly.

“I missed you,” he found himself saying again, needing Ray to _know_ , suddenly, that his feelings hadn’t changed a bit over the last six months, despite all the chaos.

Ray leaned up and kissed him soundly.

“I missed you, too,” he replied.

Michael hesitated before adding, “This has changed everything. These last six months. I’ve never done anything like it before. None of us have.”

“What,” Ray asked, “Lying in bed after being fucked over by a giant magical fish?”

“No, dickhead,” Michael laughed, playfully slapping at him. “Working together with everyone else! Going on this big epic quest. Feeling you all _here_.” He reached up and put his hand over Ray’s, still pressed against his heart. “It’s… it’s been nice.”

Ray’s eyes were soft.

“Yeah,” he agreed in a whisper. 

“And I can’t wait for the others to get here,” Michael continued. “Especially Jack! I know before all this, things between us were sort of… I don’t know. Between us and Jack and Geoff. Y’know?”

He flushed at how incoherent he sounded, but Ray seemed to get it.

“Very _I don’t know_ ,” he agreed.

“No, I mean it,” Michael insisted. “They were _something_ to us, but not _yet_ , you know? But these last couple of months, I got to know Jack so well…”

He trailed off. He could see Ray’s eyes had lowered, could _see_ how hard he was thinking.

“Hey,” he said, nudging him. “You’ll get the chance to know him too. I know you haven’t spent much time together.” He smiled at him reassuringly, and was glad when Ray nodded and smiled back. “Besides, you got ages with Gavin.”

Ray scoffed out a little laugh.

“That I did. May or may not have made a move on him yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” Michael’s heart picked up a beat. “How’d that go?”

“Good. I think,” Ray added.

“You _think_? Fuck, what happened?”

“I don’t know!” Ray replied, a bit indignantly. “He seemed pretty on board with all this. But he said something strange, something that confused me.”

“What was it?” Michael replied, brows furrowing.

“That things were complicated between him and Jack,” Ray said. “He got all cagey about it.”

“That’s weird,” Michael mused. “I’ve talked to Jack every single day and he never mentioned anything about that, or even hinted at it.”

“I know, right!” Ray cried. “But you know Gavin. He gets a bit funny sometimes.”

Michael hummed agreement.

“We’ll sort it out,” he declared. He was too warm and comfortable here in the bed with Ray to let himself get drawn into premature worries. “We’ll make sure we do. No more miscommunication and messing around.”

“But where’s the fun in not having any drama?” Ray teased, and Michael swatted him again, laughing.

“Shut up.”

Ray just fell into fits of chuckles. Michael mock-scowled and rolled over, pinning him down against the mattress before kissing him again, more rough and passionate this time. Ray stopped laughing to groan against his mouth instead. His warm hands grasped at Michael’s hips and after a moment he brought a hand up, running it through Michael’s hair before pulling him closer to kiss him more deeply.

“Your head’s all fuzzy,” he commented when they broke apart.

Michael rolled his eyes.

“It grew impractical having it long.”

“Grow it back,” Ray said. “I preferred it.”

Michael just laughed. Ray’s beard scratched at his face as he ducked his head to kiss the other man’s shoulder and up the side of his neck. Ray arched up against him, but a moment later reached up and gripped at Michael’s shoulders, stopping him - their eyes met, and there was something much more serious in his face.

“Are you sure we’re really ready for this?” he asked, and then, at Michael’s quizzical look, “Bringing the others in.”

Michael stared at him, then rolled off him, sitting up so they could talk properly.

“Why?” he asked. “Are you not? Because we can wait, Ray, if you’d prefer. The last thing I want is to ruin _us_.”

Suddenly he had a flash of doubt - maybe they were moving too fast? After all, in the scheme of things this was still so _new_ -

But then again, he thought back to the start of their quest. He and Ray had still been visiting each other often then, before things got too busy, and with their relationship stronger now, their previous tension dissolved, it’d been a bright honeymoon phase despite the seriousness of the situation, despite losing _Geoff_. They’d had each other, and the tragedy had, if anything, brought them closer. 

He remembered long nights sitting up in bed talking late into the night. About what had happened in the Wild. About their parents. About everything, like they were children sleeping over at each others’ palaces again.

Council meetings in which they were so in sync that their advisors could only watch on, amazed - expeditions where they had one another’s backs, where Michael knew he only had to glance sideways to find Ray with his bow at the ready, protecting his left side. 

Waking up every morning to find Ray beside him, sleeping soundly, or sometimes the first one awake, stroking Michael’s hair with such a soft, intent look in his eyes that Michael was left to wonder how he could ever have missed the fact that his best friend was in love with him.

Their relationship was strong. He wanted the others, yes, but he didn’t want _this_ to change. Had hoped it wouldn’t.

Ray apparently felt the same way.

"No, I’m ready too,” he assured Michael. “I just… we won’t lose _this_ , will we?”

He gestured between them, and Michael shook his head, leaning in and kissing him again lightly.

“Of course not,” he said. “It’s different with the others. You’ve seen that, even just with Gavin. It doesn’t take away from _us_ to have _him_ there. And now the others, too.”

“Ryan,” Ray murmured, with a small smile.

“Ryan,” Michael agreed, though the thought of the other man made something nervous spike through his chest. He missed him, but he was a bit worried about seeing him again. It had been a long while and they weren’t as close as Ray and Ryan were. When they left the Wild they still hadn’t gotten to know each other as much, and they’d not had all that much communication these last few months.

Still. He’d find out soon enough, he supposed, and was just glad that Ray seemed reassured as they settled in together once more, relishing finally being able to hold one another again after weeks apart.

 

* * *

 

They ate together that night, and didn’t talk about the quest. Sitting around the table in Michael’s chambers, in the crackling glow of the firenight, no pompous officials to make smalltalk with, no need for decorum or propriety - they sat, and ate, and talked about other things.

Gavin had made so much travel between the kingdoms over the last few months that he had plenty of stories to tell about things he’d seen; villages he’d passed through, people he’d met, encounters with bears and wild boars and how one time bandits had attacked him only to flee, screaming, from the sight of the Endermen he’d brought with him rising from the darkness.

The room rang out with laughter as Gavin told them stories that made Michael remember he had once been a court entertainer; awful, inappropriate ballads about the exploits of various mischievous rogue knights, terrible bloodthirsty tales of ancient kings in which far more heads got chopped off than Michael really thought was reasonable. It was apparently necessary for there to be graphic descriptions of how blood fountained from the stumps of the necks afterwards.

It was good just _being_ with the others again - in the warm glow of the firelight, snow falling softly outside, his appetite returned. Watching Ray, and how primly he used his cutlery from a lifetime of etiquette training - especially compared to Gavin, who tore his food into little pieces and picked it apart before eating it with his fingers, birdlike, with little foraging motions.

Later, they sat up on one of the watchtowers, under the bright stars in the clear spring sky. It was cold out, and both Ray and Gavin huddled in against Michael’s sides, his thick bearskin cloak keeping them warm, as well as the blaze of magic between them, like a spreading fire, steam rising in clouds before them as they drank the hot mint tea that Jack had sent over while Michael was ill.

There was a comfortable silence - until Gavin stirred, setting his cup down. His eyes were trained on the stars he must’ve travelled under every night these past few months, as familiar with the constellations as old friends.

“Remember,” he began, slowly, “I once asked if you believed in destiny?”

It took Michael a moment, then he recalled it - that first night in the Stoneworld when they’d all come to meet one another, under the glow of redstone light, animosity thick between most of them.

“That was back when I fucking hated you,” Ray informed him, apparently recalling the same evening. “I thought you were stupid. I was like, _who is this juggling moron and why does Michael like him so much_.”

Gavin let out a squeaky laugh.

“Oh my gods,” he said, “That first night - Geoff was so afraid Ryan would poison him!”

“Would’ve in those days,” Michael said.

“All he fed us was mushrooms!” Gavin continued. “He still only eats them! I’m so bloody sick of them after working with him in the Stoneworld.”

They all chuckled for a moment, lost in these fond recollections. But Gavin’s tapered out eventually, and he shifted a little so he could turn and look at the two of them.

“But yeah,” he said, a serious note back in his voice. “You ever think… maybe it was meant to be like this? The tower rediscovered. Us all coming together like no royals had before. Because it… it sounds a bit like the sort of prophecy you’d hear about in the epics and the poems, doesn’t it? _Five kings will join together and restore balance to the land_ , or whatever.”

“There isn’t a prophecy like that,” Ray replied, frowning. “Or if there is, I’ve never heard of it.”

“But was this _always_ going to happen?” Gavin insisted. “At some point would all of this have been found out? The secrets of the Wild, the End, the Nether…”

There was something almost a bit _distressed_ in his voice. Like he had some genuine concern he couldn’t quite find the words to express.

“Who can tell?” Michael replied. “I mean, here in the Alps, a lot of us believe in… in providence, in superstition, depending on the situation. I guess I do, too, now and then. But we still _choose_. It’s not all out of our hands. Geoff chose to save my life. We chose to bring him back rather than accept he was gone. In the Nether, every decision we make will affect what happens.”

“We choose,” Ray agreed, nodding.

“We choose,” Gavin murmured, thoughtfully - but he still looked concerned. Michael shifted closer and put an arm around him - Gavin looked up with wide eyes.  
  
“If we all come together,” Michael assured him, softly, “It won’t just be because of some prophecy. Because we feel like we have to. It’s because we _want_ to. _I_ want to. The soul bond isn’t… isn’t a relationship bond or anything like that. Or Geoff’s dad and Ryan’s mother would’ve been in love.”

“Oh, gods,” Gavin groaned. “Don’t even suggest that.”

“Exactly, right?” Michael chuckled, and finally Gavin cracked a smile.

“You’re right,” he said, and sighed, shoulders hunching under Michael’s arm. “I just… feel weird, I guess. We’re gonna bring Geoff back, but… what if he was destined to die? A lot of people will say we’re… we’re going against the gods and all that shit.”

“Since when have you cared about that?” Ray piped up.

“You’re right,” Gavin said, “I know, I _don’t_ , and we all know they don’t actually exist. But lately… when I sleep…”

He fell silent, and Michael exchanged a confused, concerned glance with Ray.

“What is it?” he asked.

Gavin shook his head.

“Nothing,” he said - but, at the stern look they both shot him, “It’s not to do with the gods or anything.”

“Gavin,” Michael prompted, and Gavin sighed.

“Midas,” he admitted. “He… he spoke to me through the End portal, remember? That’s how Ryan found out about the Nether. But I just… I think about him, sometimes. In my dreams I… I don’t know. I dream about the End and about him and I dream a lot about Geoff and I just - it’s confusing. It’s stupid. They’re just dreams.”

“We’ll deal with Midas once we’ve dealt with getting Geoff back,” Michael said. The Gold king wasn’t someone he’d thought about in a while, mostly because with the End portal closed, the beasts had stopped being a threat, and they’d been so focused on the Nether that they’d barely thought about the End.

“I’m just scared that it won’t work,” Gavin murmured. “That we won’t be able to get him back. I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens.”

Michael saw Ray bite his lip. He was worried about that too, he knew. Michael jostled Gavin against his side.

“You’ll survive,” he said. “You’ll do him proud. But you won’t _have_ to, because this will _work_. After six fucking months, it fucking better, or I’ll go down to whatever actual afterlife he’s in and drag his sorry ass back myself.”

Gavin laughed. He still looked worried, but at least he was smiling now. Michael leaned in close - aware of Ray’s eyes on him, watching carefully - and kissed Gavin on the cheek. It was an impulsive move, just somehow felt _right_. Gavin’s eyes fluttered shut, but when they opened a moment later - Michael’s face still close to his, holding his gaze - he shook his head slowly.

“Not tonight,” he whispered.

“No problem,” Michael replied, and squeezed his arm. Gavin smiled gratefully, and Michael smiled back. There was no need to rush into things. The others would be coming soon, and they’d see what happened then.

 

* * *

 

“ _Michael.”_

Michael woke in the night with a start, fumbling around himself for a dagger. He’d been dreaming - something bad, something that left him sick with worry upon waking - but he was already forgetting what it had been about.

The room was completely dark, but a ghostly white glow was coming from the foot of the bed. As the sleep cleared from his mind he realised it was Jack, shining with the faint, translucent light that accompanied him in the Sight.

“Jack,” he replied, and felt his heart slow and his breathing return to normal. “What are you doing here?”

Ray was asleep beside him; he’d stirred at the commotion, but drifted off again when nothing further came of it. Gavin was in the room with them, too - despite having his own guest chambers, he’d come back here with them. He wasn’t on the bed, sleeping instead on a couch across the room, curled up under Michael’s heavy fur cloak.

“I thought you’d still be awake,” Jack admitted. Michael saw him look around the room, taking note of Ray - then Gavin. He gave a small smile. “Good. The others got here safely, then.”

“Yeah, we’re all fine. Where’re you at?”

“I met Ryan on the road,” Jack said, turning back to him. “That’s what I came to let you know. We decided we’d meet you at the lake instead of the fortress, to save time.”

“Sounds like a plan. We’ll head over there in the morning, then,” Michael replied.

“Good. I’ll let you sleep,” Jack said, but paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on Ray’s form huddled close by Michael’s side. Michael had dropped a hand down over him, reassuringly, when he realised there was no threat in the room - an easy, comfortable motion. He looked down at Ray too, smiling at the other man’s peaceful face. By the time he looked back up, Jack had disappeared.

 

* * *

 

Ryan sat by the campfire, poking it now and again with a stick. It was cold in the Alps, colder than he was used to even in the Stoneworld, and very dark - every spark that rose from the fire looking like another bright star in the darkness of the night. He huddled closer to the flames, holding his chapped hands out to warm them.

Behind him, he could hear the soft snoring of the two attendants he’d brought with him, huddled up tight in their bedrolls. All around them the golems stood watch, their glinting bodies like an impenetrable metal wall around the entire campsite.

And to the left - tents were set up, containing a number of Jack’s men. Now and again he’d hear the faint call of wolves in the distance, but those had faded a few hours ago, and hadn’t returned since. It was only when he was travelling that Ryan really noticed exactly how vast their kingdoms were. Right now it felt like they were alone in the entire universe.

It wouldn’t be long before they arrived at the lake.

Ryan reached up and rubbed at his face. He was so tired, exhaustion a constant shadow hanging over him. He’d been up late every night for literally _months_ working in the lab. But he was powering through it - they’d made so much progress lately that everything had been a bit of a whirlwind. But soon would be the moment of truth - when they realised if it had worked, or if all this was for nothing.

There was a rustle of movement nearby, and he looked up and smiled as Jack came and sat beside him, ensconced in an enormous fur coat that made him look like a big bear.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hello,” Jack replied.

It was good to be around the other man. Even if Jack had come to check his progress in the Sight a number of times, it wasn’t nearly the same as seeing him in person. He looked older - his beard even longer, lines about his eyes and brow that hadn’t been there before. Leading the Plains, and Geoff’s loss, had taken their toll. But he still had the soft, gentle eyes that Ryan had always loved about him.

They sat side by side, their shoulders touching, staring into the dazzling brightness of the flame. When Ryan blinked and looked away, lights danced in the darkness behind his eyes like colourful ghosts.

“We didn’t get much of a chance to talk while travelling the other day,” he pointed out. “How is your court?”

Jack sighed heavily, and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Chaotic,” he admitted. “I always knew the Plains were a hard land to manage, being so big. Gods knew that of everyone I was probably the most prepared to be king, I’d helped run the place for so long. With Nutt dead, the turmoil died down a bit, but Geoff’s sudden death did cause problems. I was run off my feet most of the time. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help with… with all _this_.”

He gestured around them, indicating the land, the golems, the Netherrack in crates nearby, so close to where they sat that its pulsing feeling of magic washed over them in waves.

“Hey.” Ryan reached out and gripped his wrist, not liking the self-deprecating note in the other man’s voice. “You did your part.”

“Gav had to come and pick up my slack because I couldn’t investigate the temples myself.”

“No,” Ryan replied, firmly. “You were busy. You’re a new king - it was the most important time to solidify your power.”

“But it’s _Geoff_ ,” Jack insisted, shoulders hunched. “I should’ve… should’ve been the one _leading_ this whole expedition.”

“He left his kingdom in your hands,” Ryan said. “That was important. He trusted you. That _was_ your duty. I told you all that we would work together on this, that if anyone needed something, the rest of us would pick up the slack and help them. You did your part, Jack - it wasn’t the same as ours, but it was what you needed to do. What _Geoff_ needed you to do.”

Jack bit his lip, looking away, and Ryan squeezed his arm.

“Gavin’s the only one who’s really able to leave his kingdom for long stretches of time,” he pointed out. “He did his part, too.”

Finally, Jack nodded. He gave a small smile.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“It’s just the truth,” Ryan said, simply. 

Jack smile widened.

“I guess I just feel like I… I should’ve been the one doing most of this,” he murmured. “Because it was Geoff and he was…”

He trailed off. For the first time in months, his voice cracked with grief.

_He was yours,_ Ryan thought, and swallowed the swell of emotion that rose in his own throat. _Enough. You’re close now._

“Geoff was always concerned with the Plains,” he said instead. “It was what made him a good king. He loved his land and his people. I guarantee he will ask after them when we go to find him - you wait and see. And you can tell him you kept them well.”

Jack gave a little, relieved chuckle.

“We’ll find him,” he whispered.

“Yes, we will,” Ryan replied, fiercely. “I trust that we will.”

Jack turned to him. Ryan couldn’t look away from the firelight on his skin, how alive and bright and _warm_ he looked, not in the usual transparent ghostliness of the Sight.

“Time was,” Jack began, “You were the most cynical person I knew.”

Ryan looked away then. He felt a little embarrassed, but not as much as he once might have.

“Certain people have taught me the value of hope,” he said, and was glad to hear Jack let out a raw, genuine chuckle.

There was a comfortable silence. After a moment, Ryan pulled a flask from his robes and offered Jack a drink. Gods knew he looked like he needed one, with the tension rising every step closer they took to the lake, to the portal, to _Geoff_. Jack took it gratefully, Ryan watching as his lips wrapped around the bottleneck and he tilted his head back to drink.

Suddenly, the golems nearby startled with a clanking noise. Ryan sat up, alert - some of Jack’s soldiers were running towards them from the other end of the camp site.

“Your majesties,” one of them called out, already drawing her sword. “There’s movement in the night. Looks like a lot of figures coming towards us.”

Ryan and Jack glanced at one another before rising, wary, swords drawn. There were lots of bandits in these parts, and wild animals - the Alps were one of the most dangerous kingdoms, save perhaps the Wild.

They moved towards the end of the camp, away from the fire, soldiers and golems moving up around them. Sure enough, Ryan saw a series of dark shadows moving in the distance.

“Mobs!” someone yelled - and his shoulders instantly relaxed.

“No one attack!” he shouted. “Swords down! They will not harm us!”

He continued to move forward and nodded as he saw, moving along the road they were camped next to, an enormous trail of monsters coming towards them. Closer they drew, and closer, until they were passing right by them - a shuffling procession of draugr, zombies, the silent creepers - and the Endermen, their eyes glowing in the darkness, like purple stars.

“Gavin summoned them,” Jack said, beside him. “To take to the Nether with us, since we can’t bring human soldiers in.”

Ryan laughed, lowering his sword.

“They must be nearly at the lake, too,” he said. He turned and saw the soldiers still wary, and raised a hand. “Stand down! They’re King Gavin’s creatures. They will not harm us. Let them move on by - they’ll scare anything else away from the area.”

Most of the soldiers returned to their bedrolls, though a few lingered suspiciously.

With huge, thudding steps, the Endermen passed by, tall as buildings with their long legs. Ryan watched them, staring up as their huge forms cast black shadows over them as they passed. Usually, the creatures would turn and look at him, their eyes burning and accusing. This time they didn’t spare him so much as a glance, and he frowned, curious.

Still. He missed Gavin with a little pang as he watched the creatures vanish away down the road. He turned to Jack, and found him also staring after them with a small smile. 

“You and Gavin,” he said - Jack turned to him.

“Hm?”

“You’re together now?” Ryan asked, carefully.

He hadn’t asked Jack yet what went on when Gavin went to the Plains. Gavin hadn’t gone there until after he’d already spent a few months in the Stoneworld with Ryan, and Ryan hadn’t seen him since. His chest tightened a little, remembering their own time together.  
  
“Oh,” Jack said, and gave a wide smile. “Yes! After Geoff’s death we decided - no more waiting.”

He looked happy, and Ryan couldn’t tell how much Gavin had told him. After a moment he gave a small smile too, before looking away.

“That’s good,” he replied, softly. “Geoff will be pleased. Once he’s back, you can all get back on with it.”  


“With everything,” Jack corrected, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

Ryan’s lips twitched, something like relief in his chest. He’d missed Jack too, but after so long spent apart, it was a bit hard just picking everything back up like no time had passed. He hoped the distance would vanish soon. Still - he squeezed the other man’s hand back.

“We should sleep,” he said. “Big day tomorrow.”

Jack nodded agreement. They wandered back to the campsite. Ryan might be nearly dizzy with exhaustion, but he still thought he might not be able to sleep. It hadn’t come easily to him the last few weeks, and he was nervous about what might happen tomorrow.

Still. When he ended up dragging his bedroll next to Jack’s - for warmth, he told himself, with the magic that flared between the two of them - somehow it was much easier to let his mind relax and to slip away with the other man pressed up against his back.

 

* * *

 

The frozen lake shone like a mirror, so clear that it completely reflected the pale sky above it. The soldiers had put dirt over it, packed tight in a pathway that led like a wedding aisle to the very centre of the ice, where more dirt created a small island in the middle. The snow on the ground and on the branches of the trees around them was so bright it was hard to look like, white and pure like some sort of heaven, practically glowing with the sunlight reflecting off it.

Ryan wrapped his cloak around himself as they arrived, every breath misting in the air around him. There were huge, colourful tents set up on the shores of the lake - a little, temporary city, the Alpine warriors bustling around all over the place. When they noticed the kings approaching, they stood to attention, saluting, one of them running into the biggest tent.

“They’re here!” Ryan heard her yell. “My lord, they’re here!”

Michael, Ray and Gavin emerged from the tent and rushed towards them. Ryan felt himself grin, heart skipping at the sight of them.

It had been a while since he saw Michael and Ray. Ray looked healthy - cheeks flushed in the cold, beard fuller now. Not just that - something confident and powerful in his bearing and the way he strode forward that Ryan hadn’t really seen from him before.

Michael looked thinner and paler after his injury, his hair cropped short. But he grinned when he saw them, face pulling into something familiar, cheeky and boyish that Ryan had missed. His heart pulled tight.

_Six months._

He’d forgotten how much he liked them. It was easy to, when you didn’t see someone for that long, when it was hard to communicate over too-long distances. A few letters weren’t nearly the same.

Gavin was loping behind them. He looked up and smiled, something almost shy in it.

“Jack!” Michael called out as he rushed forward. “Ryan! You’re here!”

“Evidently,” Ryan couldn’t help drawling, and saw Ray give an amused scoff.

Jack was off his horse by now. Michael ran up and practically threw himself into the other man’s arms, hugging him tight with a delighted laugh. It surprised Ryan a bit just how quickly Jack hugged him back, too - something familiar and fierce in it.

He’d gotten off his own horse when Ray came up by his side, smiling.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Ryan replied.

There was an awkward moment where they approached each other, unsure if they were going to hug or not. It was Ray who made the first move, stepping forward with his arms open. Ryan grinned and hugged him too. It was good to hold him, to be close again, even if there was something brief and almost formal in it.

The others had pulled apart by now. Michael turned to Ryan next.

“You come here, too,” he demanded, and hugged him as well - fiercely and easily, his eyes shining. Ryan usually wasn’t much one for physical affection, but this was… good. He liked it. He thought he could even get used to it.

Ray and Jack’s own greeting was a bit awkward. Even he could sense it, as he stepped back from Michael. They were embracing as well, but Ray seemed hesitant and shy. Ryan looked away from them after a moment and met Gavin’s eyes. The Wild king was hanging back a little, but when he saw Ryan looking at him he smiled and lifted a hand in greeting.

_Later_. It was a clear signal from him, and Ryan nodded back. They’d seen each other a lot earlier, so their reunion wasn’t quite so desperate. If Gavin wanted to keep it private, that was fine.

“It’s good to see you all again,” Jack said. He was laughing with every word, out of happiness, surely, but it made his voice shake like he was crying, too. “It’s been way too long since we were all here in one place.”

“You can say that again,” Michael replied. He couldn’t stop beaming. 

It was true - and now that they _were_ all here, they could all feel how strong the soul bond was. There was a relief to it - a sense of completion, like scattered pieces of a puzzle had finally slotted together.

“Gav,” Jack said then, and turned to beckon him, voice tender. “Come here.”

Gavin stepped forward. Jack was beaming, but there was something almost hesitant in Gavin’s motions. Ryan wasn’t sure if Jack noticed - he pulled Gavin into a kiss, and Gavin did kiss him back, but his arms hung by his sides even as Jack’s hands grasped his face.

Ryan knew the others had noticed. He saw them exchange a glance - Ray raising his eyebrows, Michael shrugging.

When they pulled apart, Jack hugged Gavin, and this time Gavin did hug him back, clutching him tightly and burying his face in Jack’s shoulder.

“Ready to do this?” Ryan heard Jack whisper.

“Of course,” Gavin replied softly. Then, after a moment, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Jack reached up and ran a hand through Gavin’s hair, tugging him closer. They embraced a moment longer before breaking apart and turning back to the others.

For a moment, all five of them stood there in a circle - standing about just grinning stupidly at one another.

“Well,” Ray said finally, flatly.

That broke the tension a bit; they all laughed, a bit embarrassed by the awkwardness. It had been so long that there was _too much_ to say, and nowhere to start.

Ryan looked around at the lake.

“It’s a good place we’ve got here,” he said, nodding approvingly. “Lots of open space. You prepared the ice, that’s good too. Is it sturdy?”

“Oh yeah. Completely frozen,” Michael assured him. “The portal won’t, like, break through and sink into the water or anything.”

“That would not be ideal,” Ryan said. “Well, I’ve got all the pieces, and putting it together shouldn’t take too long. I’ll get started on that tonight. You brought the Netherrack?”

“It’s all set up in the supply tent,” Ray said, pointing.

“Excellent.” Ryan clapped his hands together; the reunion over with, he was eager to get to work. “Then shall we get out of the snow and go over our plans?”

“That would be good,” Jack said.

“Excellent!” Ryan repeated. “No time to waste!”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this enthusiastic about anything,” Ray said, sounding amused, and Ryan’s face flushed, a little embarrassed. He just shrugged.

“We’re about to attempt about a half dozen impossible things. I think a little enthusiasm is in order.”

“My mobs,” Gavin said suddenly, looking up. “They’re getting close. I’ll go deal with them - back in a minute.”

He slipped away before anyone could reply, and the rest of them all headed for the tent. Ryan watched as Jack and Michael walked up ahead, talking and laughing loudly together. There was an almost childish excitement in their voices - tripping over their words, they were speaking so fast, like they had so much bottled up to get out. They were catching up about Jack’s travels here - pressing one another’s arms now and then as they walked side by side.

Ryan watched them with a raised eyebrow, and after a moment Ray dropped back next to him.

“How are you, then?” Ryan asked, switching his attention to them.

“Pretty good. Ready to do this,” Ray said, but absently. He was still looking at Michael and Jack, and Ryan followed his gaze.

“They seem close,” he commented. “Closer than I’d expect, given that you two and Jack and Geoff didn’t know each other quite as well as some of us others got to.”

“I know,” Ray murmured. “He visited Michael every day while he was injured.”

_Injured_. It wasn’t so long ago that Ryan might not have cared in the slightest who held any of the other crowns, as long as they were no threat to his own kingdom. But when Michael had come so close to death, he’d been scared nearly to death himself that they were all about to lose someone else.

“He seems like he’s doing better now,” he commented.

“He is,” Ray said, and sighed. “That was a bit of a scare. Glad it’s over.”

“Well, we would’ve just ended up saving him from the Nether too, if it had gone badly,” Ryan pointed out drily. “Some may, in fact, say that we have found a way to cheat death here, if this all works as intended.”

Ray laughed, but after a moment paused.

“You really think this will work?” he asked, voice low.

Ryan sighed. He’d sure been hopeful with Jack the other night, but now - with just Ray next to him… the other man was someone he’d never felt the need to hold up any sort of pretence around.

“We have to go into this with the attitude that it will,” he said, honestly. “If it doesn’t… we’ll deal with it. I know we all have that fear at the back of our minds that it won’t work. I do, too. But don’t let that fear take over. To stay productive we need to put our all into this, and we can only do that if we really believe.”

“Okay,” Ray whispered, but Ryan could see his uncertainty. Six months was a long time to hold onto a single hope. He reached out and squeezed Ray’s shoulder; the other man smiled faintly at him.

They reached the tent and went inside. It was much warmer in here, the thick fabric furlined and the carpets keeping their feet off the hard packed snow. There was a table in the centre of the room, and Ryan walked up and unfurled first a diagram of the portal, and then a drawing scribbled in various coloured chalks.

“Did you draw that?” Michael demanded, immediately.

“Yes,” Ryan replied, a touch defensively. “Why?”

“No offence, but you can’t draw for shit.”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Art lessons were not high on my mother’s educational priorities,” he replied. Once he might’ve sounded snippy or offended. Now he understood it was friendly teasing, and the reply didn’t faze Michael. “It serves its purpose.”

The drawing depicted sloping red cliffs, the silhouettes of terrible creatures, a barren, rocky landscape filled with caves - and in the distance, against the crimson sky, a dark city. Or at least, it was meant to. It may or may not look more like a child’s _attempt_ to draw all that, but the colours certainly gave off the hellish, burning hot vibe, at least.

“My mother’s interviews with the Wild Queen who came back from the Nether,” he began, “Held descriptions of what the place is like. We can expect heat and fire, a lot of it. A land filled with lava, much like parts of the Stoneworld. The landscape is completely barren, save a city - the Overlord’s compound.”

“What are these scribbles meant to be?” Michael asked, pointing to one of the black blobs.

“Terrible creatures that supposedly roam the Nether. Wild ones.”

“Looks a bit like the sort of shit I might take after eating bad fish.”

“I now have a far more vivid image of that in my head than I _ever_ wanted to,” Ryan sighed, and traced a finger across the map. “A series of mines runs underground around the city. That’s where many of the souls work, and is likely where we’ll find Geoff. Again, prepare for fire and heat. That’s why I’ve brought these…”

He trailed off, gesturing at a case one of the golems brought forward. Opening it, he pointed at a range of glass bottles. “Potions of fire resistance. They should help us out. We’ll use strength and speed potions, too. We’re going to need all the help we can get to travel quickly across the landscape.”

“Okay,” Jack said, nodding along. His brows were knit, intently focused on the plan. “So where’s this door that supposedly leads in and out of the place?”

“The door itself is located far, far across the landscape,” Ryan said. “However, when we make our own portal, it should open a second entrance within the land - a closer one, hopefully. If we can get back to it, it will be more convenient to take Geoff back through so we know that we’ll emerge here, in the Alps. Otherwise, we don’t know where in our lands the other door might lead.”

Gavin entered the room, then. He smiled a bit sheepishly at coming in late, but Ryan had gone over the plan with him months ago in the Stoneworld, and he knew Gavin wouldn’t forget. He ushered him over to the table.

“We’ll only take our golems and mobs in with us,” he continued. “Humans likely cannot survive in the Nether as they lack the magic that sustains souls there. Now… not everyone has to come.”

Everyone went silent as he dropped this bombshell.

“What the fuck?” Michael demanded. “Of course we’re all coming!”

“I know we all prepared for this,” Ryan continued, patiently. “But this is going to be dangerous. We must all have left an heir, and preparations for our kingdoms-”

“We’ve done that,” Jack cut in. “Or I have.”

“I have too,” Michael said, glancing at Ray, who also nodded.

“You two are each other’s heirs,” Ryan pointed out, looking between the two of them.

“We’ve appointed more,” Michael informed him.

“Okay then,” Ryan replied, but gave them all another serious look. “I’m not suggesting anyone _doesn’t_ want to come. But there is no shame in staying behind if you need to. Remember, we are risking five lives for one, here. I know in the Stoneworld there has been criticism for it. I anticipate that in all of your courts, too, people are asking _why._ Why do all this for a man who’s already dead? For another king, for someone who matters little in the scheme of things now that Jack’s taken over and proven himself capable? Why risk so much?”

There was a tense silence; he could see in their faces that it was true, that this quest hadn’t been popularly received by everybody.

“The existence of other worlds,” Ryan continued finally, “Is a threat to us all. The Nether, the End - for me, I must seek to understand them so that I can protect my people later. Just like the beasts, making their way to our world through the portal, there is no telling what else might happen so long as these doorways exist.”

“Same,” Jack added. “And I will not leave Geoff.”

“If there’s a threat, I must know how to fight it,” Michael agreed. “My people expect no less from me.”

“I’m not staying behind,” was Ray’s only reasoning, but he had proven himself such a careful leader that Ryan was sure he’d thought extensively on this, had discussed it with Michael, that he was sure.

“Okay then,” he announced. “In that case, I will start to build the portal. When it’s ready, we leave.”

“All the supplies are packed,” Michael added. “We have our weapons. My men are standing guard, as are Jack’s, in case anything else should come back through the portal.”

“Then it seems it is time to do this,” Ryan said.

There was a nervous silence. Although they all _seemed_ very brave, standing there all determined like, Ryan had a lurking worry that it wouldn’t work; that the door wouldn’t open in the first place, that they might step through and immediately all fall into lava, that he might be leading every single king to their doom, here. He swallowed it down, but could see on all the others’ faces that they were wondering the same. _Crossing to another world. Are we really up for this? The beasts, the Overlord…_

“Whatever magic is in this other world,” Gavin spoke up suddenly, “It is powerful. But we’re powerful too especially together, especially with our gifts… the kings of this land are a force to be reckoned with in _any_ world.”

The words were reassuring. Ryan looked down at his palm, still bearing a thick, white scar from the blood ritual they’d performed over Geoff’s grave. Beside him, Ray did the same, and on impulse Ryan reached out and took his hand. Before long they’d all linked hands in a circle, and he felt his palm glow warm as magic surged through each of them.

_We can do this._

No more words had to be said. When they all let go of each other, the fears were gone.

“I have work to do,” Ryan said, and the others nodded.

“We’ll leave you to it,” Michael said, and pointed at the back of the tent. “The supply room is through there. You’ll find everything you need.”

Ryan watched them all troop out, one after another. Then he turned and pushed the back flap of the tent aside. It led into another room - thick cloth walls, stacked crates, a table covered in every supply he needed. He looked around at the humming piles of Netherrack, the accumulated work of months now - and took a deep breath, and got started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more beautiful fanart - thank you so much guys! <3
> 
>   * [Chibi Ryan by troublehunting](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/154631646139/troublehunting-lone-eyes-longer-road-up-ahead)
>   * [Gavin drowning by ookami-tenshi](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/154574180039/ookami-tenshi-just-finished-reading)
>   * [The Wild King was drowning by armadil-lauren](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/154574155319/armadil-lauren-the-wild-king-was-drowning)
> 

> 
> A [great fanmix by wardens-oath](http://8tracks.com/caketin/bones-of-gold), thank you so much!
> 
> My own [graphic that I made for the story](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/154587278764/we-always-start-with-good-intentions-but-lose) :')
> 
> A [post of all the lore/info from previous stories](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/154632285924/hey-jos-just-wondering-if-it-was-possible-to-get) that someone asked me to compile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas! I hope you have a safe and fun holiday! <3

Michael found Jack sitting, staring out at the glistening surface of the lake. It was late by now, and as the sun set the mirror-like surface now displayed a series of streaking reds and oranges, the snow around them seeming to glow lavender-purple under the fading light. Ryan’s dark figure could be seen, standing out on the little dirt island, slowly stacking Netherrack together, fusing each block with a brief, glowing flare of redstone.

Jack leaned forward where he sat on a fallen log, elbows resting on his knees, the picture of contemplation. Michael moved forward and sat on the other end of it.

“Is this a good time?” he asked, and Jack looked up and smiled, briefly.

“Yeah, I was just… thinking,” he replied, and laughed hoarsely, but in the dim light every crease of his face stood out, making him look older. Tireder. Michael frowned.

“I know I was the one who was injured,” he began, slowly, “But have _you_ been okay?”

Jack’s smile faded.

“Not really,” he admitted. Michael waited, patiently, and after a moment Jack sighed and continued. “I know we’re going to get him back. That’s helped me through this so far. But he still _died_ , Michael. If this doesn’t work, I’ll have lost him forever. Six months… I _miss him_. I’m already starting to… to almost forget what his voice sounded like. I’ve kept busy, but it _hurts_. It hurts when I turn over in bed in the morning and he’s not there. It hurts when I’m in court and I can’t look to him for his opinion on something. I don’t want things to be like that forever. But I’m scared they will be. I’ve been grieving with no closure. For _months_.”

Michael bit his lip. He didn’t know what to say, what clever or comforting words he could say to the man who was usually the one who had all the answers. All he could do was reach out and squeeze Jack’s shoulder. That seemed to help; Jack leaned into his touch.  
  
“Thank you for what you’ve done,” he said, and Michael blinked.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Jack said, and smiled at him. “I know I kept you company while you were recovering, but it went both ways. I wasn’t so lonely when I was here with you.”

Michael stared, then smiled back. He shifted closer, leaning against Jack’s side, and after a moment Jack rested his head against Michael’s shoulder. They watched together as the dark figure of Ryan’s silhouette continued to build the portal, higher and higher, an upright, rectangular frame slowly appearing.

“Geoff’s gonna be so fucking stoked to see us all charging in to save him,” Michael said, finally. “I bet he’s holding on waiting for you.”

Jack gave a tired chuckle. 

“Knowing Geoff, he’ll refuse to die for as long as possible.”

Michael laughed too. After a moment, Jack shifted back to look him in the face again.

“And how are you and Ray?” he asked, clearly ready to move the topic away from such grim matters. “Everything fine?”

Jack had asked before, but it was different in person somehow. 

“Yeah,” Michael replied. “It’s good having him back now that I’m not so sick. We’re completely fine, now. It’s good to have a husband you can rely on, right?” He saw Jack’s smile falter and winced, nudging him encouragingly with his elbow. “Hey - soon you will, too.”

“Let’s hope so,” Jack murmured. “He better give me the biggest, best fucking wedding after all this drama.”

“You’ll both be the Plains kings!”

“I’m not sure how that will work when he comes back, actually,” Jack mused. “Will we both have the Sight?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Michael said. “He should propose to you soon, though. Or will you propose to him?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Jack replied, something a little sad in it.

Michael wilted a bit.

“You’re right,” he said, quietly. “We shouldn’t. Guess that’s just my nature - charge right into  things and hope they work out for the best.”

“I like that about you.” Jack put a warm hand over his. “It’s good to have at least one person who’s not internally freaking out.”

“I don’t really freak out,” Michael laughed. “I just get angry sometimes. And then break a lot of things. It’s good stress relief,” he added. “You should try it sometime.”

Jack laughed, but on impulse, Michael rose and pulled his diamond sword from his belt, offering him the hilt. He was glad he could lift it so easily nowadays. When his superhuman strength had been sapped by the temple guardian, he’d been so weak that he couldn’t, and every day that he struggled with the heavy weapon had been an ugly reminder that he wasn’t healed yet, wasn’t _ready_.

“You want to?” Michael asked.

“What?” Jack asked, with a confused chuckle.  
  
“Smash something up!” Michael cried, with perhaps a _little_ too much enthusiasm. “Get all that anxiety out.”

“I couldn’t.” Jack was still laughing, more out of confusion than anything else, but Michael insistently pushed the sword into his hand.  
  
“You can!” he urged. “Go on. No one here will care. Smash up that dead tree.”

He pointed to the hollow, jagged remains of a tree trunk a little distance away. Jack was still laughing, but when Michael tugged at his hand, pulling him up off the log, he followed.

“Come on,” Michael said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You must have a lot of pent up stress from the last six months. Can you lift the sword?”

Jack reluctantly took hold of the hilt. He heaved it upwards - it took effort, and he grunted with strain, but he managed to lift it off the ground and swing it wildly - like a hammer at a funfair. It smashed into the dead tree and sent it splintering in all directions.

That seemed to fuel Jack. With a roar, he swung the sword again, bashing the tree trunk into oblivion. Then turned and started on a bunch of icicles hanging from another tree nearby, smashing them to crystalline pieces.

Finally he paused, breathing heavily, and dropped the sword into the snow. He glanced over at Michael - his cheeks were flushed red, and he grinned.

“Too hot now,” he said, and shrugged his big fur coat off.

Michael couldn’t help looking over him appreciatively; how his shoulders heaved as he took deep breaths, his brow shining with sweat. 

“Good job,” he called out. “Most people can’t really swing that thing.”

Jack shrugged, laughing. 

“I shouldn’t wear myself out before we even go in.”

Michael stepped forward to pick up the sword and take it back. He couldn’t stop staring at Jack, eyes tracing over his arms and chest as he stretched. Jack noticed, of course - his face flushed and he looked away, smiling.

“Feel better?” Michael asked.

“I do,” Jack replied. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He reached out and touched Jack’s arm, briefly - then felt suddenly flustered, and turned away.

“You should rest before we go in,” he said. “We’ll eat together later.”

“Of course.” Jack stooped to grab his coat, but then turned back to him. “And Michael - thank you.”

He’d already said it once, but there seemed something different about this time. Something that meant more. Michael gave a soft smile.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Jack turned away, then paused. Michael followed his gaze, and saw Ray coming towards them through the trees. He came up and glanced between them, smiling a bit shyly.

“Hi, Jack,” he said, and looked down at the coat hanging from his hands. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Did a bit too much exercise,” Jack chuckled.

“Oh?” Ray raised an eyebrow, and Michael gestured at the shattered debris around them.

“Jack destroyed all this stuff. Working out those complicated feelings and all that.”

“Don’t take advice about anger management strategies from him,” Ray warned Jack, slipping his arm through Michael’s. Michael rolled his eyes, tugging the other man closer against his side.

“Ray would have you meditate while sitting in a field of flowers,” he teased, and Ray swatted at him.

Jack laughed, looking fondly between the two of them. He stepped forward, and pressed Ray’s arm.

“Hey - we should catch up later. I haven’t spoken with you in a while.”

“Oh,” Ray said. His eyes widened a bit, then he smiled, seeming pleased by the attention. “Sure.”

Jack grinned and nodded before walking off, slinging his coat around his shoulders as he went. Michael watched him leave, then turned to Ray.

“You should,” he said. “You two - get to know each other better.”

“I’d like that,” Ray murmured. “I… now that we’re together, it feels weird when things are uneven. When we’re at different levels with everyone, y’know? At least with Gav we’re both on the same page.”

Michael nodded. He felt the same way about Ryan, and Ray’s closer connection with him.

“We’ll get there,” he assured him, and tugged at his arm, leading him back towards their shared tent. “Come on, then. Let’s get out of the cold.”

 

* * *

 

Ryan sat on a fishing stool, bent over a low table, fiddling away with various components. He was working on the spark to set the portal off. The frame he had already finished, and the red doorway looked unnatural in the middle of the icy landscape. Like a witches’ circle, or an altar out in the wilderness - a sign of some otherworldly magic, conducted in secret.

Now he was in one of the tents, his back aching from sitting hunched over. This was the harder, fiddly part.

The End portal had been activated by the Eyes of Ender. This doorway required something else, a special ingredient - or so his mother’s notes claimed. Something called _blaze powder_ , drawn from one of the creatures of the Nether. He’d been lucky to find a pot of it in one of the temples according to his mother’s instruction. She must not have had time to go out and collect it before she died.

Now he was messing with it, using it to create a special flint and steel to light up the portal and open the doorway. It felt more like witchcraft than science as he sat bent over the stone in the tent, a little campfire in the middle of the room keeping things lit up and cosy. 

When he heard the tent flap open behind him, he called out without looking:

“I’m not done yet! Nearly!”

“Ryan?”

The voice made him pause, lowering his materials and turning around. It was Gavin, slipping silently into the room, lurking by the door. He smiled slightly when he saw Ryan, raising one hand in a little wave. Ryan’s eyes widened, and he rose abruptly.

“Gavin.” 

He moved towards him. There was something almost magnetic about the familiarity of how he felt when he got close to Gavin, like they just kept being drawn to one another, again and again. In the red glow of the fire against the tent’s crimson fabric, it felt like they were back in the Stoneworld again, under redstone lights.

He reached Gavin’s side, and the other man stared up at him. He looked tired, but his face was open and his eyes soft. He seemed glad to see Ryan, and when Ryan reached out and took hold of his hands, Gavin smiled wider-

But it had been a few months, and Ryan couldn’t just assume.

“May I?” he breathed, leaning in.

Gavin nodded without hesitation, and Ryan’s grin widened. He cupped Gavin’s cheek with one hand and leaned in to kiss him. Gavin kissed back with a desperate eagerness, his hands rising to Ryan’s shoulders to steady himself.

Some things felt different. Gavin’s lips were chapped from so long spent in the dry desert, then the cold of the Alps - his hands covered in rough callouses from hours spent gripping reins and climbing through the depths of ancient temples. But Ryan’s thumb brushed over the scars on his cheek where a zombie had clawed him - over a year ago, now - that was familiar. And so was the way Gavin fit into his arms, the way they _felt_ together. As familiar as that first, searing kiss down in the labs, during the games, when he first knew that the two of them fit together better than anyone else ever could.

And then, later-

Late at night in the Stoneworld. Geoff dead for two months, the two of them working together, poring over his mother’s files. Down in the labs again, they’d lost track of time in a delirious haze of work and magic. Both hadn’t slept in days. They’d finally figured out the Netherrack and were laughing together over it, relieved and a bit hysterical at finally getting concrete results after so long.

They’d been getting along much, much better lately. Focused on a common task, it was easy to like one another. Gavin worked hard, and Ryan was smart, and he was willing to teach the other man now. They’d spent many a night up late, working together-

And talking, too, about various things. Looking through his mother’s files, Gavin had asked questions, and Ryan had eventually told him things he’d never told anyone before. What he’d thought of her. Stories from his childhood. How he’d planned to kill her. Somehow it had seemed easy, alone together in the silence, to let go and share with him. Of everybody, Gavin had seemed to understand.

His court had not liked seeing Gavin around.

Many of them held animosity towards the Wild, and still resented what had happened during the games. But Gavin deflected all of them with sharp wit, and clever comments, and a constant smile that disarmed the stuffy old councillors.

Still. That night, they’d had something to drink as well, in celebration of their progress. Gavin’s face was flushed, and he’d looked relaxed for the first time since Geoff died.

In their daze, Ryan had reached forward and brushed away some of Gavin’s hair that was sticking to his forehead. A tender motion that Gavin leaned into - and Gavin was the one to shift forward then, to make the first move.

Ryan had been nervous, his heart pounding, his hands sweating-

But he’d let him, kissing back when their lips brushed. This time it was gentle, and after a moment their fingers tangled together in something surprisingly intimate.

For a while it had been uncertain where that left them. They’d kind of just… gone to bed after that, and slept off the drink. When Ryan woke up it almost felt like the entire incident had been a dream.

He’d been scared the next day, when he remembered - but Gavin had just smiled at him as soon as he saw him in the morning, and Ryan smiled back, and they were _something_ \- not together, maybe - but they’d finally acknowledged what they both knew was building between them.

More had happened after that. Much more - a trip to the temples together, a foiled assassination attempt - things he wasn’t sure if Gavin had told the others about.

But he didn’t think about those, now. He thought mostly of their first kiss, of how he still wasn’t sure where exactly they’d left off, but clearly Gavin was still interested, if the way his hands on Ryan’s shoulders tugging him closer and closer were anything to go by. 

When they did break apart, Gavin clung to the front of his shirt, and Ryan dropped their foreheads together, breathing heavily, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he murmured. He still had one big hand over Gavin’s cheek, thumb brushing gently over his skin. “I was worried when I felt you get hurt the other day.”

“Last place I expected to nearly drown was the bloody desert,” Gavin replied, and Ryan laughed, and pulled back a little.

“You did a good job going around gathering all that Netherrack,” he said. “It must’ve been tiring being on the move.”

“I’m used to it.” Gavin’s smile was a little more rigid this time. “Gave me a bit of nostalgia, actually. Before I settled in the Plains capital - where I met Geoff and Jack - I was on the move quite a lot. Picking pockets in various places. So it reminded me of the old days, travelling alone.”

“Good old days or bad old days?” Ryan asked.

“Mix of both.” He raised and lowered one shoulder. “Hadn’t thought about it in a long time.”

Ryan moved back over to the table and sat down to continue his work. Gavin followed him and pulled himself to sit on the empty storage crates nearby, knees folded up in front of him, watching.

“Need any help?” he asked.

“I got it.”

“Okay. Tell me if I’m distracting you.”

“You’re fine.” Ryan looked up and gave a small smile; Gavin smiled back, but leaned forward after a moment, squinting at him.

“You don’t look like you’ve been sleeping much,” he chided.

“Too busy!” Ryan replied. “And hey, you don’t either.”

“Bad dreams,” Gavin muttered, hugging his knees and looking away. Ryan glanced up from his work, and frowned.

“About Geoff?” he asked, carefully.

“About… yes,” Gavin replied, but there was a funny note in his voice. “A bunch of things. You ever… you ever believe in premonitions?”

Ryan paused again.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Gavin took a deep breath. He was staring down at his palms like they held the secrets to whatever it was he was so preoccupied with. There was something hesitant in his voice. Even back in the Stoneworld, with Geoff’s death raw and painful in their minds, he hadn’t seemed this _uncertain_.

“Like maybe,” he began, “Dreaming of something and then it comes true. Dreams that mean things. Omens.”

“I didn’t used to believe in magic,” Ryan replied simply, “But I suppose now, anything could be true. Our concept of the world has already changed because of these portals. Our ideas about religion, about death. Why not about time, too?”

Gavin hummed, thoughtfully, and lowered his hands to look at Ryan again.

“If anyone was gonna have a prophetic dream, it’d probably be a witch, right?”

“That makes… logical sense,” Ryan replied slowly. There was a glum silence, and he added, “Why? What did you dream of?”

Gavin sighed, and rubbed his eyes. Ryan watched him carefully. Something about the hunch of the other man’s shoulders, not to mention how suddenly this topic had come up, made him wonder just how long this had been going on - what could be weighing on Gavin’s mind so heavily.

“The ones about Geoff,” Gavin began, “Are just… just me being anxious, probably. But some of the others… they don’t feel like _prophecies_ , not really, just… remember when I went into the Endermen’s memories, and saw all the stuff what happened in the Wild a long time ago? Including Midas finding the tower?”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever have dreams where you’re someone else?”

Ryan blinked a few times.

“No,” he replied, “I’m always me in my dreams.”

“Well I’m not,” Gavin replied. “I used to have dreams where I was the characters from the stories and ballads I told around the court. Or I’d dream about being other people I knew - people from the orphanage or from the circus. So I’m not always me in my dreams, and that’s pretty normal for me, but… I don’t know. Sometimes in these dreams I’m Midas, going to the tower for the first time, it… it feels _real_. I can’t explain it.”

“What does it feel like?” Ryan asked, frowning.

“It feels like... when I put on the Wild crown and received the gift. It feels like _triumph_ , when things had been unfair for too long. But it feels like trespassing, too. Like you’ve stolen something you don’t deserve and you’re… you’re _proud_ of it, but there’s always this sense of something being out of place. A peasant dressed in royal robes. A beggar touching gold for the first time.” He frowned. “A fool sitting at the king’s table.”

Something in his voice made Ryan think he wasn’t talking about Midas any more. His own frown deepened as he laid his work down and turned to look at Gavin properly.

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded.   


“Hm?” Gavin stirred, glancing up at him.

“You and Jack,” Ryan said, slowly. “Something’s off. I know Michael and Ray noticed it, too.”

Gavin stared down at his hands again.

“I love Jack,” he whispered. “It’s not about him.”

“Then what’s it about?” Ryan’s voice was gentle. He started to rise to walk over to Gavin, but the other man looked up and shook his head, pointing back at Ryan’s work. Ryan sat down again, reaching out to continue as Gavin pulled his knees up again and hugged them close to his chest.

“I’ve had a bit of an… identity crisis lately, I suppose that’s one way of putting it.” He huffed. “Maybe travelling around only made it worse, I don’t know. I thought the… the Wild was where I finally fit in, where I was finally _home_. And I miss the others there, and I’m proud of what I built, but lately I feel like… an imposter, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?” Ryan asks, not liking the word, not liking how it fit him too, sometimes, and all the doubts he had when he first inherited - doubts he thought he’d cast aside long ago but which had flared up again since going through his mother’s papers. Since starting to let himself open up to the others.

“It’s hard to explain, it…” Gavin trailed off, frustrated. “It doesn’t matter. Just me being stupid.”

“It does matter,” Ryan said, voice gentle but firm. “You’re upset.”

“Someone… said something to me.”

“Who?” Ryan demanded. “What?”

“In the Plains, someone…” Gavin shook his head again. “Just said some things that made me think a bit, I guess. In the Stoneworld, remember, someone tried to kill me?”

“I took care of it,” Ryan said, fiercely, scowling at the memory. That had been a fright - the council session in the throne room. The man with a blade who lunged out of nowhere. How he’d started up from the throne but Gavin was standing across the room, too far, too _far_ , and how he’d seen a golem grab the Wild king and wrench him aside but there’d been blood on the floor and for a moment he hadn’t been able to tell how bad the injury was-

He shook it off.

“That man,” he continued, “Was left over from my mother’s rule. He hated me, too. He probably just thought you were an easier target.”

“I _am_ an easier target,” Gavin said, and bit his lip. “If he’d killed me - people would’ve approved, or some of them. Does it really matter that it was murder if the king was never meant to be a king in the first place?”

Ryan stared at him, taken aback. His dull tone, the lack of defiance in the words - it wasn’t something he’d ever have expected from Gavin. Gavin, who’d been so proud, so determined - Gavin, who ran to the Wild and took the crown for his own and never once allowed anyone to think he regretted his choice.

He took too long to reply, because Gavin sighed again.

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated. “It’s nothing. I’ll get over it. I just… I’ve been too many places lately. And I’ve been too many things. Orphan. Circus boy. Thief. Fool. King. _Witch_. And yet-” His fists clenched, “I don’t even know how old I am. Or whose blood runs through my veins.”

“Blood doesn’t matter,” Ryan snapped. “I can tell you who you are.”

He rose again and stepped forward, the words rising up passionately, ready to spill out. _You’re the man who slayed the first beast, you are the one who earned everything you have, who built a city from ruins, you are the first person to make me_ feel _in a long time-_

But Gavin raised a hand to stop him.

“I know,” he said, and smiled, softly, and Ryan could tell in his face that he _did_. “I _know_ , Ryan - you can tell me, and Jack will tell me if I ask him, and you’re all… you’re all _very_ kind, and very reassuring. When I’m with all of you, it feels like everything fits together and we are finally all where we need to be. But we are not always together. I’ve been travelling for months now - our world is a big place. And sometimes I am dizzy with how much I… I don’t know where I have come from, or where I am going, or where and how my path crosses with others. Sometimes I think about how much everything has changed because of my actions. People… people were hurt. Everything has an impact. Sometimes we can’t see it right away.”

Ryan stared at him, still confused. Still not liking that sudden, uncertain note in Gavin’s voice.

“Who said something to you?” he asked again. “Was it a Plains councillor? I once told you that you didn’t deserve your crown. I was wrong, and I realised that because I _learned._ Because I saw all you did. In time, everyone else will, too.”

Gavin’s smile at that was brief, and faded quickly.

“Maybe there are things I needed to learn as well,” he muttered.

Ryan still didn’t like that strained note in his voice. It felt like nothing he’d said had actually gotten through to him. But he’d finished the spark now, and Gavin had noticed.

“You’re done!” he cried, and leapt off the crate. “Let’s go save Geoff!”

“Gavin!” Ryan caught his arm as he rushed towards the tent door, and tugged him back. Gavin stumbled, then looked up at him - eyes wide, their chests pressed close. After a moment, he tilted his head and gave Ryan a reassuring smile.

“Look,” he said, “I know this is, like, the worst possible time for an existential crisis. I promise I’m okay. Let’s not waste time, not when we’re so close.”

“You should talk to someone about this,” Ryan urged. “I’m here to listen if you’ll just tell me more, if I can understand…”

Gavin’s eyes had softened, but Ryan still wasn’t sure; he squeezed his arm.

“Or Jack will,” he said. “If you two are together - and you are, he told me you are - then let him know that something’s bothering you.”

“Okay,” Gavin assured him, but Ryan still wasn’t sure he _meant_ it. Still - a moment later Gavin leaned up and kissed him gently on the lips before grinning and tugging at his arm.

“Come on,” he said, and Ryan picked up his work and let Gavin lead him out.

 

* * *

 

Night had fallen over the Alps. Although torches lit up the campsite, out on the lake everything was dark, cast only in a pale moonlight, and the door itself glowing red as the kings stood before it in a heavy, pagan silence - five dark figures, alone on this little island of packed dirt, surrounded by the ice shimmering red like blood.

They were suited up and ready to go. Nothing left to do or prepare, only these final actions they’d been waiting for, for so long. Ryan wore armour, and his sword hung heavily at his belt. On one side of him was Michael - practically vibrating with a fierce energy. With his bearskin cloak pulled up over his head and his sword in hand, he looked ready for battle. On his other side stood Gavin, his scarf pulled up like a hood and wrapped around his face to protect his nose from the winter chill. He looked like the sorcerers in ancient stories; a shadowed, veiled creature, only his glowing green eyes peering out from the swaths of cloth.

Behind him, Jack was breathing too fast. They could all hear it, but no one was about to tell him to calm down. On the shore of the lake all of their men stood, watching them - the golems and mobs surrounding them too, a silent, waiting crowd.

“Ready?” Ryan asked, finally. 

Michael nodded, and Ryan stepped forward, and struck the flint and steel. They flared with a golden light unlike any he’d seen before; a bright glow like a fairy light. The blaze powder smelled bad, like sulphur, but it looked beautiful - like he was holding a fallen star in his hand. When he touched it to the Netherrack, the frame lit up in a burst of flames - intense, blinding, but oddly _silent_ \- and they all stepped back. The flare only lasted a moment; as it died down, a shimmering sheet of purple slowly filled the doorway, rippling gently.

Ryan’s stomach felt tight.

_It’s working._ He’d been so worried that nothing would happen that he nearly couldn’t believe his eyes. He could hear the murmurs of the soldiers on the shoreline, watching in awe.

“Okay,” he said, and gave a relieved little laugh. “Okay. Who’s going first?”

“Me,” Gavin said, stepping forward.

They’d decided on this long ago. If things went horribly wrong, Gavin was technically the most expendable, just because his kingdom had so few citizens. No one liked the fact, but it didn’t matter. Gavin had insisted on going in first.

He moved towards the portal - but Jack stepped up and grabbed his wrist, spinning him around and pulling him into a quick kiss. Gavin kissed him back before pulling apart and giving him a reassuring smile, but Ryan could see the fear in Jack’s eyes - that he might be about to lose someone else. Michael reached out and grabbed Jack’s hand, squeezing tightly as Gavin turned back to the portal.

He hesitated before the doorframe - then stepped through, and vanished.

Instantly, they all clutched at their heads - in surprise more than pain or fear.

Gavin was not dead.

They could not feel the emptiness that came with losing a king. But he’d been cut off in an instant - they couldn’t _feel_ him. He was still _there_ , but Ryan couldn’t sense his emotions, as he usually could - couldn’t reach out to him. It was as though a door had slammed shut, but the room beyond wasn’t empty.

But he wasn’t dead. They could feel _that_ , at least.

“Okay then,” Ryan said softly, and they looked around at each other. Michael squeezed Jack’s hand and then stepped through, next - then Ray, quickly - one by one going silent in Ryan’s head. Silent, but still there. The mobs followed, then the golems, leaving only Jack and Ryan, standing next to each other. He could feel how amped up the other man was, how he was practically thrumming with nervous energy - wanting to leap through, but afraid of what he might find.

Ryan reached out and touched his shoulder.

“Go,” he said.

Jack nodded. He took a deep breath, and then moved forward, plunging through the doorway next.

It left Ryan standing there, feeling completely alone in his own head for the first time in his life since he inherited the crown. He took a moment to prepare himself, staring up at the dark sky above them, the twinkling stars - this might not be his kingdom, but the sky was the same everywhere. A world he was so familiar with. Somewhere in his heart was a thrill at the prospect of leaving the kingdoms, of going somewhere _new_ , a scientific curiosity at the possibilities it might open.

Time to find out.

Geoff was the next thing on his mind, the thought of the other man there, waiting for them - for all their previous animosity, Ryan had thought about him a lot these last six months. Had mourned him, and missed him - all going according to plan, they’d be seeing one another again, soon.

He shut his eyes, and stepped forward, through the purple haze, into _nothingness_ , as everything fell into darkness.

 

* * *

 

Everyone in the Nether felt the disruption.

Geoff had been sleeping, or something close to it; he never actually slipped into unconsciousness, but now he lay, resting, after another achingly long day in the mines. They had all been lying low after his punishment, none of them daring to leave the city to meet up now that the Overlord was keeping a closer eye on things.

But he snapped awake, now. Everybody did.

Something was happening, he could feel it. It was hard to explain, he just _sensed_ it, the way he’d used to sense things in the soul bond, a magic brushing at the edge of his mind. Like the shift in the atmosphere before humidity cracks and a thunderstorm breaks out. An electricity in the air. After a moment, the ground gave a faint tremble.

“What the fuck is going on now?” Geoff grumbled.

He rubbed his face tiredly as he rose and left the cramped stone building in the city where everyone went after they’d finished working to catch a few brief moments of rest before they were sent back to the mines. Tall, narrow buildings with no furniture or windows, just dusty rock floors that were their only beds. Geoff shared his with a number of the pigmen. But he left alongside them now, following them out the door into the road.

All around the city, souls were emerging. They were not meant to; anyone in the streets instead of at work was typically punished. But something was different now, as the streets flooded with creatures, staring around.

At first everything looked the same. But then, in the distance, on the horizon - a flare of yellow, like the sun was finally rising. There was no day or night here in the Nether, no moon or sun or stars. Usually the sky was just pure crimson, like blood. But now, like spilling gold, yellow spread across the sky from a single point, like rays of light.

“The fuck,” Geoff said.

“Ramsey!” He spun around to see Tamora, brutally elbowing her way through the masses of bodies until she was right next to him and seized his arm.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Her voice was tight, her brows furrowed deeply. “Something’s arrived here.”

“Arrived?” His heart skipped a beat. _The others?  
  
_ He barely dared to hope, but he’d always wondered if they knew whether he was still here, trapped between life and death - there was simply no way to tell.

Before anything else could be said, the Overlord’s thunder rang out, making everyone automatically flinch, expecting chastisement - but he did not appear to punish them for being out of their houses. Instead his black blur streaked through the air like a tornado, travelling out from the city, towards the light.

Tamora shook his arm roughly until he looked at her again.

“Whatever’s going on here,” she hissed, “It’s our chance to escape. To find the door and get out.”

“But what _is_ it?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s our ticket out of here, that’s all we should care about. I’ll find Weisheng, we need to move quickly.”

Geoff nodded slowly. He shrugged her hand off his arm and looked up at the yellow glow in the sky again, eyes wide - exhaustion and pain wiped away for the first time, that endless red and fire and pain finally broken by something else, something _new_.

And then - one after another - he _felt them_ , flaring back to life. The others, in his mind.

Gavin came first, so suddenly and intensely that Geoff could nearly sob at feeling that spark light up again. Then Michael, Ray, Jack - _gods,_ that was new. He’d never been connected to the other man before, but recognised him immediately, intimately. And Ryan, last of all, and bringing with him a lingering _completion_. Geoff didn’t know where they were, or how they’d come, but for a moment he didn’t let himself worry about it - just stared up at that golden light, tears blurring his eyes, mouth open a little, heart pounding for the first time with a desperate hope that made him feel alive again.

_They’re here._


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Gavin noticed when he stepped out of the portal and his feet landed on the ground of the Nether was the heat.

Constant. Oppressive. Worse even than it had been in the desert. It wasn’t just coming from the sun up above, but seemed to emanate from all around them. 

He opened his eyes. For a moment, enclosed by darkness, it’d felt like he was stepping into nothing, his stomach lurching as though he was suddenly falling. But now he had emerged here, and he was in one piece, and the ground felt solid under the soles of his boots. All he could see around him was red rock.

He stumbled forward, getting his bearings, and then turned around.

He seemed to be in some sort of cave, and in the wall behind him, there was a shimmering purple rectangle in the rock itself. A new doorway that had opened up - _Netherrack,_ he realised, _the entire cave is Netherrack,_ and they’d opened a new portal inside it. 

Suddenly, a waving arm emerged from the purple haze - and then Michael fell out. He staggered forward, nearly tripping over his own feet, and had clearly charged right through. Gavin caught him, wobbling a little under the other man’s sudden weight, and steadied him.

“Hey! Michael, boi! You’re here!”

“Holy shit,” Michael gasped, clutching at Gavin’s shirt. “That felt _weird_.”

“You okay?” He was glad to feel Michael spring back to life in his mind. In the moments after he stepped through the portal, the sudden _silence_ of having none of the others active in the bond had been disconcerting.

“I’m fine.” Michael clapped him on the shoulder, recovering quickly as he turned and looked around, eyes wide as saucers. “Oh my fucking gods. It’s literally just rocks? I was expecting some sort of incredible new world.”

Gavin couldn’t help laughing, a bit hysterically. He didn’t let go of Michael, reassured by having another warm human presence by his side in this strange environment. Now that he wasn’t in such a state of shock, he noticed all sorts of things. Like the slightly tangy, mineral smell in the air, unlike anything from Earth. How the constant warmth was making him feel a little nauseous. How gravity seemed to drag more at his feet, making his muscles ache and all his limbs feel heavier.

“I think we’re in a cave,” he replied. “I’m sure there’s more outside here-”

He broke off as Ray emerged from the portal next, and Michael rushed from his side to grab the other man and steady him as he wobbled out into open air. He wasn’t alone; mobs and golems streamed through next, too many of them for such a small space - Gavin was soon focused on mentally directing them out of the way so they wouldn’t block the portal’s entrance.

Jack was the next to stumble out, and Gavin’s heart clenched at the look on the other man’s face. As he realised where they were - realised it had _worked -_ a multitude of emotions flashed through his eyes. Pure fear, at first. Then nervousness. Then an overwhelming _relief_.

_Geoff._ Gavin could never stop thinking about him. Even now, he was tingling with the thought of finding the other man - and yet holding a sickening dread at the thought they might _not_. It wasn’t quite grief, but it felt distressingly close to it. Even now they were here, he was too scared to be excited.

“Jack,” he said, and moved forward to grab the other man’s hands, despite himself.

_Stay away,_ he’d tried to tell himself, _you’re only making it worse._ But he couldn’t, not when Michael was holding Ray right next to them, and despite being older and stronger than Gavin could ever hope to be, Jack looked so lost and vulnerable, standing there staring around with  wide eyes.

Jack turned to him, and his face crumpled a little.

“Good, you’re fine,” he said, catching Gavin’s hands and squeezing tightly. It struck Gavin how frightening it must’ve been to see him vanish through the portal - how he must’ve wondered if he was about to lose _both_ his closest friends and would-be lovers to the Nether.

“I knew I would be,” Gavin said, but Jack shook his head.

“No, you didn’t,” he chided. Gavin didn’t know what to say. Going first had been his idea, it just made the most _sense._

_You’re expendable._ It was someone else’s voice in his mind; harsh, hoarse, not so easy to dismiss. _Not really a king like the rest of them. If you die, it doesn’t matter so much. If you die…_

He shrugged, and a slight frown flickered across Jack’s face. He reached up and cupped Gavin’s cheek for a moment, then slid his hand down to the side of his neck, thumb pressing to the pulse point as though reassuring himself he was still alive. Gavin struggled not to flinch away from the sudden, quite intimate touch. After a moment he reached up and put his hand over Jack’s.

“Hey,” he said, reassuring him. “We’re here. It worked. We’re all here.”

“Not all,” Jack said, and turned.

Ryan stepped through the portal as calmly as if he was just leaving his front door and going for a walk in the garden. After everyone else’s staggering about, it put them all to shame, especially when he glanced about, then turned and looked at the portal, and merely raised an eyebrow.  
  
“Huh,” he said, disarmingly casually. “Well. That seemed to all go as intended.”

Gavin burst out laughing, he couldn’t help it. Ryan glanced over his shoulder at him, and as their eyes met, they exchanged a small, secret grin. Gavin knew, despite how nonchalant he seemed now, exactly how nervous he’d been about all this. There was a moment of connection between them, that wasn’t there with the others - just because the two of them had worked alone on this, together, for so long. It was their success, their relief, it was him who knew exactly _how much_ this all meant to Ryan. Exactly how impossible it had been, despite telling the others it would all work out again and again - the sleepless nights of frustration and scribbling so many different plans and calculations that their hands ached.

“Feels weird here,” Ray commented, and Gavin turned in time to see him shudder.

It did feel weird. Not like magic-weird - Gavin knew that feeling intimately enough. But just like being near the End portal, or any of the beasts, there was an uneasiness to the entire place. The sort of nervousness that came with trespassing, that constant buzz of adrenaline Gavin remembered from when he’d used to sneak up to someone ready to pick their pocket. _Like we’re not meant to be here._ A pressure against his skin like the entire world was bearing down on him, trying to break him.

“This is a land for souls,” Ryan replied, ominously. “Not for humans. Of course it feels wrong. We are entirely at odds with everything else here.”

“We’re actually _here_.” There was raw awe in Jack’s face as he stared around. “In the… the _afterlife?”_

It was indeed an odd thought. For most of his life Gavin had never paid the thought of death, or what might happen after it, much heed. After Geoff died, he’d understandably given the matter much more contemplation. But even now, it struck him that this was the place _he_ would’ve gone, had he died - where his parents probably went, if they had been witches - a hell of sorts, or at least a purgatory.

It made something crawl down his spine. But with his mobs standing nearby, at his beck and call, he felt much better - more in control.

“I can’t feel Geoff,” Jack continued, and there was a sudden note of panic in his voice as he crossed to Ryan and reached out, grasping at his sleeve. “Ryan, I can’t… I can’t _feel Geoff,_ if he’s here in this world - should we be able to?”

Gavin bit his lip, feeling a flash of alarm as well. Jack was right. He hadn’t noticed, because over the last six months he’d gotten used to it - but there was still an absent space in his mind, a blankness where Geoff used to be. It felt the same as it had before they came in here. Like Geoff wasn’t part of the bond any more.

“ _Should_ we be able to?” Michael echoed. “I mean, he’s still technically dead. While we’re alive.”

“It doesn’t necessarily mean anything,” Ray agreed, shooting Jack a concerned look.

Jack was still staring at Ryan pleadingly, but Ryan’s face was pulled tight. He couldn’t give Jack the answers he wanted - respected him enough not to lie.

“Whether he’s here or not, we’ll find out soon enough,” was all he said. “We might not be able to feel him for a number of reasons. We can’t assume he’s still here, but we’ve come all this way to find out, so let’s get on then. Come on.”

He started to walk through the cave, and after a moment Gavin followed. He could tell the others were uneasy; they lingered behind, but he came up by Ryan’s side as he headed for the opening, squeezing between two tight spans of rock and emerging on a little plateau looking out over the cliffside. Gavin pressed close to him, touching Ryan’s arm. The other man looked down at him, and gave a small smile, but before long they were both staring out at the view they’d emerged into.

Even out here, the air was still stagnant, warm, oddly heavy, like the mouthy breath of some living creature. The sky was flat and red with no clouds in sight, nor sun. Just a stretching crimson expanse as far as the eye could see. A golden light seemed to be coming from behind them - caused by the portal? - but aside from that, there was nothing, and it was slowly fading as well.

Gavin stared out at the endless red rock. Flickering movement caught his eye - he twisted and looked up behind them. The cave they were in protruded from the side of a steep cliff face, one of many dotting the landscape. Up behind the cliff, enormous pale creatures floated gently above.

“Animals!” Gavin whispered, excitedly. “They don’t look that hostile. Aww, it’s like a sleepy floating cloud with a face!”

“Could still be dangerous,” Ryan muttered. “I don’t trust anything here.”

The others had come up behind them by now, and Ryan glanced at them and pointed out across the landscape.

“Look,” he said. “There’s the city in the distance. We’ll have to travel over there.”

“Looks like a pretty clear route,” Michael pointed out. Indeed, although the city was far away, between them and it seemed nothing but bare, hot ground and the occasional pile of boulders. It almost seemed too easy.

“Let’s get the supplies sorted first,” Ryan muttered.

They’d had no idea how long the journey would take, but it was a good thing they’d packed plenty of food and water, because from the looks of things there wasn’t any in this realm. The golems were carrying most of it, but now they redistributed things so Gavin’s Endermen took some others. It didn’t take long, but while their backs were turned an enormous crash of thunder rang out, making everyone jump and grab for their weapons.

“Is that a storm?” Michael demanded, eyes wide.

Something about the thunder - which rumbled continuously now, an ominous, low background noise, made Gavin’s heart sink. It had the same dread to it as the first beast’s roar. He turned, and rushed to the cave entrance. There was a dark blur zooming through the air towards them, fast as a streak of lightning. 

The others ran to back him up. Gavin pulled his knife; the others their swords, the draugr raising their bows and all the mobs getting ready to fight. But there was not much room on the little plateau, and they had no idea what was coming.

“Is it a beast?” Ray asked behind him, but before Gavin could answer, the darkness stopped right before them and shifted into a horrible creature, floating suspended in the air in front of them - a man as large as a house, completely stark fucking naked, and covered in fire. Okay. The devil was apparently very ripped, and didn’t wear underpants.

“ _Who enters my domain?”_

“The Overlord,” Ryan muttered, beside him - Gavin glanced over. Ryan’s jaw was set, determined. He didn’t look scared. It made Gavin feel braver somehow, too. Usually he never let fear show anyway. But he’d been rattled, these past few months, worn down by everything that had happened, and giant-flaming-devil-guy was the horrendously nude icing on the cake of trauma that life had been shoving down his throat recently.

“Kings,” the Overlord hissed, beady red eyes scanning over all of them. “What are you doing here? Invading my home? Well if you want to come here before your time, consider your wish granted!”

Before anyone could respond, or even really move, he promptly reached into a pouch at his belt and pulled out a handful of black crystals, throwing them to the ground in front of the kings. They shattered into black smoke that formed itself into humanoid figures with glowing red eyes; a half-dozen of them, clearly magical soldiers of some sort. They reminded Gavin uncomfortably of the Wither skeletons, and the kings backed away.

“You wish to meet your doom?” the Overlord cackled, as the dark soldiers advanced towards them. “You’ve come to the right place!”

“What the fuck are these things?” Michael snapped. He shoved past the others and swung his sword; the creature blocked it with one black, smoking arm. There was a moment of resistance before Michael was forced to pull his sword back and try again. This time the creature ducked the sweeping blow, as nimble as the wind.

The Overlord chortled wickedly away above them. He rose even higher into the air and, shrieking with laughter, tossed more and more handfuls of crystals down. They exploded into even more horrible beasts - some skeletal and thin, others enormous, bloated forms that loomed above them. All of them sporting horrid red eyes and sharp, clawed fingers. Shadowy ghosts that advanced upon the kings, forcing them to back up along the platform.

“Ryan, what are these things?” Ray yelled, drawing his sword.

“Why are you asking me? _I’m new here too!”_ Ryan yelled back, sounding more flustered than Gavin had ever heard him.

“Yeah, but you _know stuff_!”

Gavin tuned them out. His heart was pumping and he was focused on the fight. Outside the magic of the Wild he wasn’t as fast, wasn’t as alert - but now he gripped his knife tight in his hand and ran forward.

One of the creatures swiped at him. He ducked its arm, nimbly, and leapt at another of them, stabbing his blade straight into its heart before it had time to twist away.

It disintegrated into a pile of black dust, just like the beast had - but as it began to crumble into the ground it swiped one final time at Gavin, sharp claws tearing another set of holes in his scarf. He barely threw himself aside in time, rolling across the ground-

And perilously close to the edge of the platform. For a moment he saw the dizzying drop to the ground far below, and gasped - but Michael, nearby, seized his arm and dragged him back away from the edge, pulling him upright. His fingers dug into Gavin’s elbow hard enough to bruise and he hauled him up so easily that Gavin’s head spun a little. 

There was no doubt Michael had recovered his strength by now; it was like being grabbed by one of Ryan’s mighty golems. Gavin stumbled to his feet and shook his hair out of his face - he met Michael’s concerned eyes and they exchanged a nod before springing back into battle.

Gavin reached out with his mind and sent the mobs forward in a sweeping wave. The golems were already duelling with the creatures; everyone else was fighting hard, and now the zombies and Endermen moved out onto the platform to engage as well - the zombies beating with their fists, the Endermen swinging their enormous limbs.

“Everyone clear the way!” Gavin called out. “I’ll blow them up!”

He saw the others move from one side of the platform where a cluster of dark shadows fought, and sent three creepers in that direction. They exploded with a blast that rocked the whole platform, making everyone stumble and sending a shower of rocks and boulders crashing to the ground below. A section of the cliff wall crumbled away, revealing more passages - another system of caves that had been hidden behind the rock.

The Overlord just laughed, watching from high above.

“Come on then!” he roared. “Come on! Dance, kings! Dance for me!”

He threw more crystals down. The onslaught of creatures seemed endless - they drove the mobs backwards, zombies and draugr falling the impossible drop to the ground below to land in shattered piles of bone and flesh.

The others ended up in a ring, fighting side by side, trying desperately to push back against the hordes of shadows. Gavin was soon sweating, covered in sticky dark ash - darting out nimbly between Jack and one of Ryan’s golems to slash away at the creatures before ducking back to cover.

More mobs were dying, winking out one by one in his mind. As he watched, the shadows grabbed a zombie and yanked its limbs off, tearing it to shreds with bare hands and fingers sharp as knives.

_We can’t win._

He felt it from the others first - a wave of panic sharpening into sour despair and then hopelessness. It was Ryan who finally turned to the others and yelled, voice hoarse and breathless:

“ _Run!”_

“What?” Michael demanded.

“Run,” Ryan repeated, and let out a ragged cry as he narrowly blocked a blow from one of the creatures before hacking its arm off in one wild swipe. “The golems can hold them off, we need to-”

“That’s right!” The Overlord hollered, swooping down towards the platform. “Run, little kings! Run for your lives! You won’t have them long!”

He threw another crystal at them, but this one struck the top of the cliff wall above the platform. There was an explosion, and the cave began to collapse, chunks of destroyed rock raining down on them and forcing them to scatter as the entire mountain began to crumble. Gavin scrambled sideways, dragging Jack with him. A golem was crushed under the rubble, its metal body squashed flat - three more creepers exploding under the impact.

It was those creepers that caused more of the cave to collapse. As he watched, Ryan was hit by the blast and thrown sideways, right at the feet of several of the shadowy creatures.

Gavin’s heart nearly stopped.

“ _Ryan!”_ It tore from his mouth in a terrible scream. He started forward - but there were boulders between them, and too many of the Overlord’s monsters.

Michael was trapped on the other side of the rubble with Ryan. As Gavin watched, he rushed forward and with a furious roar began to beat away the creatures with his sword. Most of them fell away and he dragged Ryan upright, but more were swarming towards them. Gavin moved to call on mobs to help, but barely any were left alive.

Michael glanced over his shoulder and met his eyes.

“Go! Go!” he yelled.

Up above them, the Overlord was laughing, his terrible cackles echoing around them. He blasted more rocks down and Gavin stumbled, still desperately trying to find a way across to the others. He could see how heavily Ryan was leaning on Michael, how more and more of the dark shapes were advancing towards them. There were more on that side - they were in more danger.

“Gavin! We need to go!”

Jack seized his arm and yanked him towards the caves beside them, a narrow passage leading deeper into the cliff that had been opened up by the blasts. Gavin struggled in his grip, Ryan and Michael and the fear he could feel over the bond the only thing on his mind.

“Gavin!” Jack snapped. He lost his grip on Gavin’s arm and grabbed him by the waist instead, hauling him back.

“Let me go!” Gavin cried. “We need to-”

“Gav.” Ray was by his side suddenly. “Gav, they’re alive. They’re running, too.”

Gavin twisted to look over his shoulder. Too many rocks had fallen between them, forming a makeshift wall, but through the cracks he could only just see Michael and Ryan and what looked like a couple of other golems fleeing, picking a path down the side of the cliff. Soon they vanished out of sight, swarms of shadows following. 

_They’re alive._ He could feel them in the bond, and Ray’s face was strained and desperate, but there was nothing they could do. He slumped over, and let Jack drag him away, fleeing deeper into the mountainside.

 

* * *

 

“I think we’ve lost them,” Michael panted.

They’d descended to ground level now, after being pursued for some distance down the cliff by the shadow creatures. But Michael had fought some of them off, and the others they outran before slipping into another cave in an opening at the sound of the mountain. Now they had been travelling through another twisted system of caves for a while.

It was dark in here. They’d long left daylight behind, but Ryan had a redstone torch, and it was only in its dim glow that Michael could now meet his eyes as they both slumped against the wall, catching their breath.

Ryan was holding his side, and his face was strained with exhaustion and pain. But Michael could feel his life force through the bond. He didn’t seem too badly injured.

“How bad is it?” Michael asked, turning to look at him once he’d recovered himself.

Ryan reached down and rubbed at his side. He flinched, but shook his head.

“I don’t think anything’s broken,” he replied, and grimaced. “Just very bruised. I hit my head earlier too and it was spinning a bit, but I think I should be fine.”

“Let me check,” Michael insisted, still worried. He crouched by the other man’s side, reaching to pull his shirt up. Ryan moved the torch out of the way and Michael hissed in sympathy at the bleeding scrapes that covered the other man’s side, dark bruises already appearing in places. He reached out and pressed at one, and Ryan stiffened under his touch, letting out a strained noise of pain. It was a little awkward being so close; when Michael looked up he was right at crotch level. He shifted back on his heels a bit.

“Is there a sharp pain?” he asked.

“Not sharp, no.”

“Can you breathe okay?”

“Yeah.” Ryan gave a strained smile. “Don’t worry, Michael, I’m fine. There’s not much we can do about it, anyway.”

Michael nodded, and rose, slumping against the wall next to him.

“So what’s the plan now?” he asked.

“Find the others,” Ryan replied. He lifted the torch and looked around - they were in a rocky cavern, nothing but dark passages stretching either way. “Once we’ve given enough time for the Overlord to leave the area, we’ll have to go back to where they were and then travel to the city together. Getting split up in this world would not be ideal. There’s no one around to give directions, not many landmarks… so we need to try and regroup as soon as possible. Just let me rest a moment, then I’ll be fine. We can push on.”

Michael nodded. He turned to the golems that had survived the attack - only two remained, standing obedient and silent next to them. One carried a bag of supplies, and Michael glanced at it and cursed as he noticed it was dripping.  
  
“Fuck. I think the potion bottles broke.”

“All of them?” Ryan demanded, alarmed.

Michael grabbed the bag and looked inside.

“Just a few.” He picked out the shards of glass, taking up one bottle that was only cracked and offering it to Ryan. It was a potion of strength, and Ryan drank it slowly, filtering it through his fingers so he didn’t swallow a chunk of broken glass by accident.

There seemed to be more colour in his face when he was finished, or Michael thought so, at least. It was hard to tell in the red light.

“I’ll bandage you up,” he declared, grabbing the other bag with their medical supplies.

“You don’t have to-”

“We don’t know how long we’ll be here,” Michael insisted. “The last thing we want is someone getting an infection. We don’t know what the hell this world is like. It could be full of fucking diseases or shit.”

Truth be told, part of him just felt like he needed to be doing _something._ It wasn’t often that something could overpower the Alpine king, and he felt helpless after the Overlord had so easily managed to decimate their forces and split them up. Even now, running and hiding wasn’t something that came naturally to him. After a moment, Ryan sighed and nodded, but there was something awkward in his face, and Michael hesitated. 

“Sorry,” he said, less insistently. “If you’d rather do it yourself-”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Ryan replied.

“I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” There was something a bit defensive in Michael’s voice; he wished he knew Ryan better, better like the others did - felt a bit like the odd one out, the only one who didn’t have some special bond with him. But Ryan just shook his head.

“You’re fine,” he said, and then - “Thank you.”

His tone, his demeanour - it was so different from the Stone king Michael had first met. Even when they last parted ways in the Wild, Ryan had still been a little wary, a bit rough around the edges. Something had really softened him since. Gavin maybe, Michael thought, during the time they’d spent together. Or perhaps it was just Geoff’s death which had changed everything for all of them.

Still. He didn’t comment, just cleaned out and then dressed the worst of the scrapes on Ryan’s torso. When he next looked up, Ryan smiled at him, looking quite genuine. Michael smiled back.

“Okay?” he asked, rising.

“Let’s go,” Ryan replied, and they headed on, deeper into the mountain.

The winding series of passages seemed quite unnatural, like they were paths once hollowed out by miners. Occasionally they passed metal rings fastened into the walls that looked like they had once held torches. They picked their way through the largest cavern, but other, small tunnels wound off the main path like snaking catacombs.

“It’s a fucking maze in here,” Michael muttered, staring warily around. Their shuffling footsteps and the heavy steps of the golems echoed loudly through the enclosed space. The roof was so low that Ryan had to hunch over as he moved. “We don’t want to get lost.”

“Bit late for that,” Ryan replied. “We’ll just follow the widest path. That’s more likely to lead out of here.”

Michael just made a disgruntled noise. He didn’t like this place. The walls felt like they were closing in around him, and the constant red glow was torturous. Ryan was probably used to it, he thought grimly. Of all the kingdoms, the Stoneworld resembled the Nether the most. Still - he felt uncomfortable here in a way he never had when travelling the Stone kingdom. He vastly preferred wide, open spaces and fresh mountain air. Perhaps fittingly, it felt like they were entombed here.

“You alright?” Ryan asked after a moment.

“Yeah?”

“You’re shaking.” Ryan turned and looked over at him, and Michael felt his face heat self-consciously. He wrapped his arms around himself.

“Just hate these fucking caves,” he replied, glowering around at the stone walls. “The Alps are nothing like this. Fresh air, forests… we have mountains, but we don’t go _into_ them. Feels like I’m gonna fucking suffocate in here.” 

“Calm down.” Ryan reached out and squeezed his shoulder briefly - Michael was quite surprised, and hadn’t thought the other man was all that tactile - but his hand fell away after a moment, like he’d barely even realised he was doing it. “We’re not lost.”

“I’m not scared of being lost,” Michael replied, feeling a bit flustered. “Been lost plenty of damn times.” He laughed, and it echoed eerily through the cave. “The Alps are such a wilderness that it’s not uncommon for people to just disappear into the woods. Freeze to death, or get eaten by bears. I’ve got fuck-all sense of direction. My mother used to get so fucking angry about it because that’s one of the most important skills you can have in our kingdom. Luckily I was better at other stuff to make up for it.”

“Like smashing things?” Ryan asked, an amused note in his voice. Michael glanced at him, and Ryan chuckled. “I heard you and Jack by the lake last night.”

Michael laughed again.

“Yeah, basically,” he replied. “Fighting, killing, y’know. Surviving. Anyway, she made a real effort to train me up about how to use maps, but there were still a bunch of times I’d go out for walks alone and end up in the snow without a fucking clue where to go next. Luckily I’m pretty good at tracking, so I could usually follow my own trail back, but only if the weather was right. I do remember one time I got lost for two days on a hunting trip.”

“How old were you?” Ryan asked, sounding genuinely interested. “Were you afraid?”

“I was too young and stupid to be properly afraid,” Michael snorted. “I was maybe fourteen? And Ray had just gone back to the Desert. I went out for a walk on my own and just… got so fucking lost somehow. They had to send a massive search party out after me, and someone went after the Desert party to see if I’d snuck out to try and go back with them. _That_ caused a lot of panic, for both kingdoms. I got in big trouble for that.”

Ryan was grinning. It was strange to see him smiling so openly, and Michael marvelled again at the sudden change in his demeanour. Or perhaps not so sudden - it had just been a long, long time since he saw the other man.

“I can imagine you well as a young child,” Ryan commented.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Tough as nails, hair like fire…” Ryan trailed off, shaking his head, and Michael scoffed.

“That’s about right. I can’t imagine _you_ as a child,” he replied. “Like literally, I’m trying to picture it and I’m just seeing a little kid but with your deep voice coming out of it.”

“I was a very serious child,” Ryan informed him, his smile fading a little. “I think that is why Geoff didn’t like me when we met in our youth. Didn’t exactly smile a lot.”

“That’s sad,” Michael murmured, his amusement melting away.

Ryan shrugged, looking away. The silence that followed was a little awkward, and Michael swallowed, not wanting to leave things hanging like that.

“What did you do for fun?” he prompted.

Ryan seemed startled that he was interested, and Michael half expected to be told to mind his own business - but after a moment, Ryan continued.

“There was not much to do in the Stoneworld. I didn’t have many friends - I was privately tutored, and other children weren’t allowed in the castle. My mother didn’t like them. I read a lot.”

“Can’t say the same for myself,” Michael muttered.

“Non fiction mostly. History, science. I suppose as a child you might say I was a bit of a know it all.” Now Ryan’s lips twitched again, and Michael grinned.

“ _Was_?” he teased, and was glad to hear Ryan scoff out a laugh.

“After my father died,” he continued, and sobered a little, “I suppose I ought to have become closer to my mother. In a way I did - she started taking me along on more trips, to meetings, around the city with her… I remember one time, I slipped away from the group to explore. There was nothing stopping me from leaving the castle - I was hardly a prisoner - but I’d just never really ventured out on my own before. I must’ve been, what - eleven? Twelve? But I was shocked by the… the poverty in some areas. The harshness of life in the outer city. The mines. I was old enough to understand it was not a pleasant life for many. This was when parts of the wall were still being built. I snuck over there and saw what was going on.”

Michael grimaced. There were few in the kingdoms who hadn’t heard haunting tales of the building of the Stoneworld’s wall.

“Before that,” he ventured. “Did you…?”

“I had… suspicions,” Ryan replied, grimly. “I wasn’t always entirely comfortable with the things I’d seen or heard of my mother doing. I suppose I was still too young to properly realise, and young enough yet to be loyal just out of some sense of filial piety. It is difficult,” he added, “When we so desire to respect our parents. When we’re forced to discover what we thought was right all along is not. When our opinions start to diverge, and you don’t know if you’re right, or just being defiant. When people we’re supposed to look up to _disappoint_ us.” 

Michael bit his lip. He understood Ryan’s words, but it was hard to relate. He’d always looked up to his parents, and they’d never disappointed him. He’d been devastated at both their deaths. His father had been a brutal, warlike man, that was true - but Michael had always been able to see the reason behind his actions, and had never disagreed with them enough to re-evaluate their practices. The Alps had been allies with the Plains and the Desert, and he’d liked Geoff and Ray and their parents so much that there’d never been any problems. It’d always just been the Stoneworld who was the enemy.

Ryan seemed to be lost in thought, but after a moment he shook himself.

“Anyway!” he declared. “That time, I got lost finding my way back home. I had to stop and ask a guard for directions. Eleven years old and I could see she was already afraid of me - just a child! - I suppose in case my mother punished her for my own mistake.”

“What happened?” Michael asked, worried - but Ryan just scoffed.

“Nothing, fortunately. As I said - I was no prisoner. I was allowed to leave. My mother just snapped at me to take a map next time so I would not distract the guards from their duties. I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut about what I’d seen, about my sudden doubts regarding her methods of ruling.” His lips twisted wryly. “Not always so smart once I got older.”

Michael was silent, processing this. It was more than Ryan had ever shared with him before. He remembered how he had killed Queen Haywood, how he’d spent the last six months studying her notes and plans again. It must’ve been hard - dredged up old memories. But he had no idea what to say.

“Yeah, well,” he managed, finally. “Weird child or not, I think you turned out okay.”

Ryan barked out a startled laugh.

“Thank you?” he replied. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It is one,” Michael replied. “Hell, look at all _this_ -” he gestured around them; the golems, the Nether. The two of them here, together. “You’ve done more for the Stoneworld than anyone has in years. The golems, the alliances, the science projects… bet all those old historians are frantically scribbling away about all this. We give them something new to write about every damn day.”

Ryan hummed.

“It was always strange growing up knowing that people would talk about our actions for years,” he mused. “Kings are not easily forgotten.”

“Well, some are,” replied Michael, who had not paid very much attention in his own history classes. “But we won’t be. And if we don’t return from here, then we’ll all have just vanished into nowhere one day. Five kings all gone at once! Wouldn’t that be a story!”

“Not a very happy one!” Ryan exclaimed, then paused suddenly, dimming the redstone torch. “Look.”

There was light on the path up ahead - the red light of the Nether sky. They’d finally found an exit, the cavern emerging into the open air. They hurried forward, when suddenly Michael heard the telltale rumble of thunder.

“Shit!” he hissed. “Get back!”

He shoved Ryan against the wall and they both froze, perilously close to the entrance but too afraid to move - their chests pressed so close together that Michael could practically feel the frantic rhythm of Ryan’s heart, pounding in time with his.

A shadow passed across the cavern entrance. The Overlord, speeding by - a dark blur accompanied by crackling thunder. _Hunting for us._ It sent a chill down Michael’s spine, an electric tingle in the air seeming to make all his hair stand on end.

The cloud passed - but then, in an instant,  the cavern went completely dark - Michael muffled a surprised noise. It was as though someone had blown a candle out, plunging everything into blackness, and he clung tighter to Ryan for a moment, feeling the other man stiffen in surprise, too. 

“What the fuck just happened?” he whispered.

“No idea,” Ryan murmured back, his hand coming up to Michael’s arm to steady him. 

It was frightening not to be able to see anything. He felt dizzy, lost in the darkness, Ryan’s warm body against his the only thing keeping him steady. 

“It’s dark as fuck. Turn the torch back on, I think he’s gone.”

The redstone flared back to life. It was very eerie, that little circle of red light in the rest of what was complete blackness. They pulled apart a little awkwardly, inched towards the cavern entrance, and peered out.

The red sky had switched to pitch black. No stars shone in the expanse, no moon. Nothing but pure darkness, as though all the light in the world had spontaneously been sucked away.

“Perhaps this is what night time here looks like,” Ryan murmured.

“Probably,” Michael replied, but something uneasy had settled in his gut. “It’s too dark to go looking for the others now. We’d get even more lost. We should wait for daylight again.”  
  
“Agreed,” Ryan replied. “Let’s stay in here for the night, and get some rest, and get our bearings back in the morning.”

They retreated a safe distance back into the cave. The golems set up guard, standing to attention, their redstone eyes gleaming in the darkness.

Michael settled onto the hard ground. Ryan had planted the torch into the floor. It made a funny sort of campfire, a single glowing red spot. They’d brought blankets, and he shook them out now to sit on, although it was still very hot here. It didn’t feel like the sun had set, if there was even a sun at all. They unpacked food and water and set up a little meal.

It felt strange being alone here together, and Michael felt a little shy. Although he was used to this - camping regularly with his warriors - it was different with Ryan, who he didn’t know as well as he’d like, yet still liked so _much_ , or at least wanted to.

They ate in silence, thinking. Michael wondered about the others - if they were okay. If they had stopped to rest too. If they’d been scared when the darkness fell. He reached out and prodded Ray across the mental link.

_Safety,_ he sent over, as much as he could. A steady reassurance.

Ray pushed back with the same emotions almost instantly, and Michael gave a small smile. _So they’re okay too, for now at least._

Ryan was eating quietly. He seemed lost in thought, gazing into the darkness, and Michael took the chance to sneakily look at him. Once again he couldn’t help by being struck by how Ryan seemed to have lost his previous harshness. He _looked_ softer, even in this dangerous situation. Friendlier. Maybe it was just the change in his hair - longer now, falling down his back in a ponytail. Or maybe he was just too tired to frown all the time like he’d used to.

“You seem different,” Michael blurted out, before he could stop himself.

Ryan looked up. One eyebrow rose challengingly, and _that_ was the same - but it wasn’t mocking now, not like it used to be.

“Different?” he questioned. “How so?”

“Just. Everything about you,” Michael replied, flapping a hand about. “You’re not as…”

“Evil?” Ryan asked, and Michael felt his face heat.

“I mean, for lack of a better word,” he replied - then decided upon, “Hostile.”

Ryan stared at him, and Michael wondered if he’d offended him somehow.

“I don’t mean that in a bad way,” he quickly blustered on. “I’m _glad_. It’s just - before, even when we were all in the Wild, you hated all of us. You didn’t _trust_ us. Now you’re really friendly. It’s good, I like it! ...I’ll, uh, just shut up now.”

Ryan stared at him a moment longer, then sighed.

“No, it’s… it’s fine,” he replied. “You’re right. A lot has changed. I’m sure you feel it too.”

“Yeah,” Michael murmured, looking away - feeling shy again, unsure if Ryan meant what he was thinking, exactly what was being _felt_ here.

“Our time spent working together over the last six months,” Ryan continued. “It has… proven all of you to me. I see now that it is better that the kingdoms be united than that we just serve our own interests. As for all of you _personally_ ,” and wasn’t that the part Michael had been waiting for, “I am close to Gavin, that is no secret. The time we spent together in the Stoneworld was… good.”

_Good_. He didn’t expand, but the softness in his eyes and the small smile at his lips told MIchael all he needed to know. But after a moment, he shook himself.

“But Jack, too,” he continued. “And Ray… we already got along fairly well, and it is even easier now.”

“And me?” Michael asked, heart pounding. “And… and Geoff?”

“Geoff and I reconciled before his death,” Ryan mused. “But it’ll be… odd, seeing him again.”

“Are you nervous?”

Ryan hesitated, and looked down, focusing on his food for a moment.   
  
“Yes,” he admitted after a moment.

“Me too,” Michael whispered, and wrapped his arms around himself. “He died saving me. I… I looked up to him so much, for such a long time, and now… I want him back, but I’m also nervous about how once he’s here… once we’re _all_ here…”

He trailed off, but Ryan continued to stare at him steadily - clearly _waiting,_ almost daring him to say it out loud. Michael swallowed hard.

“I want us _all_ to be together. That’s… that’s what’s happening.” It was terrifying to say the words to _Ryan_ \- to Ray he was fine, even with Gavin they knew this was going on. But Ryan was still hard to read, and Michael was always doubting whether he wanted to be here, too. Especially since now he looked away and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. For a nerve-wracking moment, Michael wondered if he’d misjudged all this.

But then Ryan nodded, and looked up at him. His eyes were tired, but scared, too - scared like Michael was scared, the fear that came with wanting something so much that you were worried about losing it. 

“That’s what’s happening,” he agreed, and Michael’s shoulders slumped in relief. “That’s what _can_ happen, once we’re all back. Maybe it will work. Maybe it won’t. But we’ll see - once Geoff gets here.”

Michael nodded. He felt awkward suddenly, unsure where this admission had left them - but Ryan rose suddenly, and dragged his blanket closer to Michael’s, settling down on it and folding his hands behind his head.

“We should sleep soon,” he announced. “But first, why don’t you tell me more of your childhood misadventures? I’m intrigued.”

Michael grinned, the adrenaline fading in a rush, happy for the effort on Ryan’s part, and the distraction, and the chance - despite the circumstances - to sit together and finally get the chance to know one another better.

 

 

* * *

 

 

In his dreams, Gavin wandered through the busy marketplace of a city.

He wasn’t sure where he was. It didn’t look like any city he knew of, and even the people seemed a mixture - some had the smudged, ashy faces of Stoneworld miners, or the weathered skin and colourful robes of the Desert kingdom’s citizens. The city itself had the cobbled stone architecture common to the Plains. It felt like he was everywhere at once - and yet nowhere.

He was pushing his way through crowds, invisible amongst so many people. Too hot and sweaty amidst the masses of bodies - he knew he was searching for something, but in the daze of the dream, didn’t quite know what. At the back of his mind, there was an odd paranoia that someone would recognise him. He wasn’t sure why that would be a bad thing.

It was something very important he had to find, and he paused to try and look at one of the stalls in case whatever it was might be here, on the table - but the crowds rushing past kept jostling him, stopping him from looking closely, and a sense of panic built up in his chest.

Time was running out.

Something was chasing him, maybe - coming for him, and if he stayed in one place too long he knew it’d catch up to him.

Suddenly a hand descended on his shoulder. He jumped and whirled around to find a hooded man looming over him, gnarled fingers digging into his shoulder, and recognised it as one of the politicians from the Plains court - the same man who it made his stomach clench just to think of, whose voice he couldn’t get out of his head.

“ _Traveller,”_ the man growled - had he recognised him? He knew Geoff’s fool, but did he know Gavin’s face now, after over a year away? “You’re not from here.”

“No,” he heard himself reply, nervously. “I’m not.”

“Then where’s your home?”

It should have been a simple question, but suddenly he couldn’t think of any answer. The man’s fingers clutched tighter at him, anchoring him to the same spot as more and more people rushed past, jostling them - all in the same direction, like they were fleeing from something.

Gavin opened his mouth, but no words came out. The fingers dug tighter into his shoulder.

“You’re hurting me,” he blurted out.

The courtier’s eyes narrowed.

“Man from nowhere,” he spat in Gavin’s face. “Where are you from? Why are you here?”

“Let go!” Gavin cried, and began to struggle in earnest now, reaching up and trying to pry that clawlike hand from his shoulder. “Let me go!”

“ _Go!”_ The man laughed, harshly. “You _should_ go! Pass through, wanderer. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong anywhere. I see your witchy eyes. You’re a _curse!”_

People all around had stopped and were staring at him now. A thousand eyes boring into him, making him feel like nothing more than a circus show, a spectacle on display. He broke free of the man’s grasp, but the hand grabbed his scarf next, yanking him back, the fabric tightening around his throat until he nearly choked - he was dragged forward until their faces were very close and all he could see was that old, lined mouth filled with rotting teeth, sneering at him, the lips spitting each word.

“Go on! Flee back to the Wild with the other lost things.”

Gavin’s eyes were blurred with tears. He could barely see. He wrenched himself backwards and fell free - the scarf ripped loudly, and it tore through him like a physical wound. He fell backwards and hit the ground, crying out in surprise. For a moment he sat, dazed, arms curled around himself-

He looked up and blinked. Everyone had vanished. The marketplace was as empty as the Nether, an abandoned ghost town-

Except for one other man, wearing a simple brown hooded cloak, bent over the stall. Gavin stared around - he still felt nervous. The market might be empty, but there was still a lingering sense of _danger_.

“They’re coming,” the man said suddenly.

The voice was familiar, but Gavin couldn’t place it yet. Still sprawled on the ground, he stared up at the figure.

“Who’s coming?” he asked. 

“The ones who would take everything we have built,” the man replied. “Who believe we haven’t earned it.”

He was picking up and putting down the trinkets from the stall, and Gavin realised suddenly that they were little dolls. Cloth figures, stuffed with straw - the Kings of every land, and their parents, too. He’d seen them before - they were meant to be placed at altars, under the belief it would remind the gods to bring good health to the people depicted. Now, they seemed more like voodoo dolls, something sinister in how the man was toying with their little limbs, playing with them like puppets.

He finally turned and looked at Gavin, who froze.

_Midas._

He recognised the man immediately, his eyes flashing golden under the shadow of his hood. He looked just like he had in the vision Gavin had seen through the eyes of the Endermen.

Stepping forward, he offered Gavin a hand.

“Come with me,” he urged. “They’re coming.”

The running feet of guards echoed through the marketplace, and Gavin flinched. It reminded him of when he’d been a teenager, a thief always being _chased_ , constantly on the run, never in one spot for long.

Midas waved impatiently at him.

“Come on, Wild king!”

_King_. The word didn’t feel like it fit him somehow. But Midas bent low now, scowling.

“Come _on!”_ he urged.

Gavin finally grabbed his hand and let Midas haul him to his feet. But the guards had caught up by now - a seemingly endless mob that surrounded them, pointing sharp pikes in their direction. Gavin tried to call on his monsters, but there was no one there, his mind empty.

“Stop!” one of the guards cried. “ _Thieves!”_

“I’m not!” Gavin began. “We didn’t take anything-”

He broke off. Midas was holding a handful of the dolls he’d taken from the stall. The guards stared between them, and stepped closer.

“Dirty, filthy thieves!” they cried in unison, their voices echoing through the stone marketplace. “Arrest them!”

Midas turned to Gavin and grinned, wide, his white teeth flashing in his dark face, his eyes glowing as golden as the dawn sun.

“Haven’t we earned our freedom?” he whispered, something almost mischievous in his voice.

Before Gavin could reply, Midas stepped forward, and seized hold of the two pikes closest to him, one in each hand. Gold began to spread along the spears, and then the hands of the soldiers clutching him. They began to scream in agony, twisting and writhing and trying to get away, but to no avail; the metal spread along their bodies as they quite literally _turned_ to gold, their faces contorting in twisted expressions of pain.

Gavin watched, horrified, the tortured screams echoing in the back of his mind - Midas laughed and laughed, just like the Overlord, and suddenly he had no idea who it was he was meant to have been running from-

He woke, gasping, in a cold sweat.

His heart was pounding, and for a moment, here in the oppressive heat and darkness of the Nether, he thought he might still be trapped in some nightmare. Then he remembered where they were, and what had happened, and slumped back against the rock ground of the cave they had camped out in, gathering himself.

Another nightmare.

It had become a nightly occurrence by now. That had been a mild one, in comparison to others. The worst were the ones where he’d see Geoff - lying dead on the ground, slowly rotting away as Gavin struggled to reach him. Or the other man would have become a Wither, and would roam with the others through the forest. Gavin would be trying to tell the others not to shoot him, that they needed to keep him alive, but he would end up lost in the Wild unable to find anyone to warn them. Or they’d leap through the portal to find themselves in the End instead of the Nether, and Midas would be there, and Geoff would be a golden statue.

There were other dreams. Dreams about that first time he’d stepped into the Wild, to fight the beast. He’d be fleeing from Geoff and Jack, come to try and rescue him, and he would be torn between continuing on his quest or stopping to let them catch up. Dreams about his mobs suddenly refusing to obey him - enemies closing in and none of them would _move_ , no longer listening to his commands - no longer seeing him as their king.

Dreams about being Midas, approaching that tower for the first time only to find it blocked by Endermen, hissing and snapping at him, their long limbs stretching out to keep him away, away, away, even after he had solved the puzzle, had earned his gift.

Midas appeared in every dream. He’d pop up at some point near the end - hunched over Geoff’s body, or emerging from between the trees of the Wild, with his eyes all aglimmer, and he’d whisper the same thing every time.

_Haven’t we earned our freedom?_

Gavin had no idea what it meant, or where the words had come from. It was not a memory; Midas had never said that to him, even when looking through the portal. But something about it made him uneasy.

_Freedom._

He’d thought he already had it. He’d thought he’d proven himself, but the dreams kept blurring into reality and making him even more unsure of himself.

_It’s nothing_. He hugged his knees and shut his eyes, trying to reassure himself. _They’re just stupid nightmares. The others probably have them, too. It comes from not getting enough sleep, and being on the move so much - not having your own bed every night to come back to. That’s important. Having a home._

_It’s_ nothing.

“Gavin?”

He looked up. In the dim light of the single torch they’d salvaged, Jack was moving towards him. They were camped out at the base of the cliff, having emerged some time ago. Two Endermen and a draugr were all that remained of Gavin’s mobs. Two of them stood watch; one Enderman Gavin had sent away to explore during the night. It could teleport away from any danger and it would save them time in the morning. A little distance away, Ray slept.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked. He came and sat next to Gavin, who stiffened.

Usually he’d rush straight to the other man for comfort. But things were strange with Jack nowadays. He so desperately wanted to let himself _have_ this, have what he’d wanted for so long - what Jack offered so easily, now.

But every time he did, he saw the old, weathered face of the Plains councillor, heard his snapped accusations.

_What are you doing here? What are you doing with him?_  
  
Haven’t you done enough? You already ruined King Ramsey, have you come for Pattillo, too? 

_A fool sitting at the king’s table._

“I’m fine.” He turned away even as Jack reached out to embrace him, and felt Jack stiffen in surprise.

“Gavin? I could hear you making sounds in your sleep - it woke me up. What happened? Was it a bad dream?”

His voice was so gentle, so kind - it made something well up in Gavin’s throat. When Jack laid a heavy, warm hand on his shoulder, he wanted nothing more than to cling to him and pour his heart out. Tell him every sleeping vision - he remembered each vividly - take the advice that Jack always seemed to offer so easily, somehow managing to constantly find the right words to say.

But he couldn’t.

He knew it was cruel to avoid Jack, to push him away for seemingly no reason, but some fucked up part of Gavin kept whispering that it was for his own good. _He’s better off without you. Let him have Geoff back. Geoff who is an actual king and leader._

_Not like you._

_You are the one who stole your crown. Who didn’t even realise there was a portal in your kingdom until a dragon emerged to kill people. You can run the Wild, sure, but the rest of the world you do not belong in. The Wild is not like their courts. It’s just a playground for idiots like you._

Jack was squeezing his shoulder, staring at him in concern, and Gavin darted a glance at him before looking away again.

“I’m fine, Jack.” His voice came out shaky, a little too defensive. “It was nothing.”

“You’re trembling,” Jack pointed out.

“I’m cold.”

It was a stupid lie that he blurted out without thinking about it. It wasn’t cold at all; in fact it was still uncomfortably hot in here. Nightfall hadn’t changed the climate in the slightest. Jack was no fool; he frowned, his hand slipping from Gavin’s shoulder.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, you know,” he said, quietly. “You can just tell me that. I won’t push you.”

“I don’t,” Gavin replied, a bit too snappishly, “I _don’t_ want to talk about it.”  
  
“Okay!” Jack raised his hands defensively. “I was just offering.”

Gavin could hear the clear hurt in his voice, and he felt a pang of guilt, biting his lip and looking away.

_Tell him. Talk to him. Ryan said you should._ But he couldn’t find the words for all he was feeling; the rising distress, the self-doubt, the anxious visions that swirled in his mind every time he slept, or tried to. _You’re together. Of course he wants to help. Talk to him._

_But could he ever understand?_

“Can I hold you?” Jack asked then, and he sounded so tentative and unsure of himself that Gavin could barely stand it.

“I…” he began, then trailed off, unsure what to say. He was saved a moment later when he felt something light up in his mind; a tug at his connection to the mob he’d sent out exploring.

“I think we should move on,” he said, abruptly. “I’m not getting any more sleep tonight and we may as well not waste time. This darkness is our cover to move without the Overlord seeing us. The Enderman just found something. There’s a village near here.”

“A village?” Jack asked, frowning. “But no one lives here.”

“That’s what makes it so strange… let’s go see. It’s not far.”

The Enderman re-appeared beside them in a flash of light, and Gavin reached up and touched its side. After how helpless he’d felt in his dream, it was reassuring to know that he still had control of the mobs. Jack seemed to agree with this plan; he rose, bundling up their blankets before turning and offering Gavin a hand.

The motion reminded him of Midas from his dream; he flinched back, startled, and Jack looked stricken.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Gav, it’s okay… it’s all gonna be fine. We’ll find Geoff. We’ll get home. It was just a nightmare.”

Gavin wasn’t quite sure what to say to all that. But Jack looked so hopeful, so pleading, that he couldn’t deny him. He took Jack’s hand, and the other man hauled him to his feet only to suddenly pull him close, into a tight hug. Gavin made a startled noise; he briefly hugged him back, but he was skittish, and Jack could clearly tell. He pulled back and eyed Gavin with concern.

“Gavin, did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“What?”

“You’re acting really strange. I thought we were… I thought _we_ were fine.” He gestured between them, face twisted and upset. “But if I’m doing something you’re not comfortable with, just tell me-”

Gavin bit his lip. The last thing he’d wanted was to make Jack feel like there was something wrong with _him_.

“Oh no, it’s… Jack, it’s not you-”

“You’re acting strange,” Jack repeated.

Gavin looked away, fists clenching at his sides.

“I just… I just want to find Geoff,” he whispered.

He knew Jack was confused, and it was cruel to act strangely and not tell him why, but he didn’t know how to bring it up. It was different with Michael, whose kingdom was so much less formal than the Plains; it was different with Ryan, who already loathed his court. But Jack, Jack who had had to take over so suddenly from Geoff, whose position was already precarious…

If Gavin said anything, Jack would just try and reassure him that things were fine. He wouldn’t be able to _see_.

The commotion had roused Ray; he was awake now, and had come over to the two of them.

“What’s going on?” he asked, groggily. “Why are we leaving?”

“The Enderman found a village nearby. We’ve decided to move on and check it out while it’s still dark and the Overlord can’t see us,” Gavin replied. He stepped away from Jack and paused a moment, gathering himself - trying to clear the dream from his mind. He felt rattled, but took a deep breath. They needed to focus here.

Ray looked confused, but nodded and moved to pack his own things up. Gavin swept up the torch and held out a hand to the Enderman. It grasped it in its own enormous paw and he closed his eyes, experiencing a rush of its memories.

Several kilometres north, and nestled in a little valley - it was, indeed, a city of some kind, a little conglomeration of stone buildings carved of the same red rock. But Ryan had been so sure no one lived here! Well, they would investigate.

The Enderman had encountered no sign of the Overlord. Gavin could only hope he’d gone to hunt for them elsewhere in the landscape.

He turned back towards the others and found Jack hunched over next to Ray, the two of them whispering together. He caught them glancing over at him, and his stomach clenched.

_They’re talking about you._

Of course they were. It was to be expected, after all. Maybe Ray could help, he didn’t know. He looked away, feeling quite alone here in the dark, still shivering from his dream.

“Come on then!” he called out, and the others stopped talking and walked over to him. When Ray reached his side he shot him a concerned glance, reaching out and touching his wrist gently. Gavin forced a smile for him.

“The village isn’t far. Let’s go check it out,” he said. 

He led the way, holding up the torch, following the route he remembered from the Enderman’s memories - the others following behind him. After a moment Ray slipped a hand into his; Gavin glanced over at him, but in the pitch black night it made sense to stick together. He saw Ray grab Jack’s hand too, and they shuffled into the darkness together.

 

* * *

 

“Are most of the others back indoors?” Tamora asked.

“Yes,” Geoff replied. “The guards are patrolling the gates, though.”

He was peering out the door of one of the rocky hovels they lived in. When the sudden darkness fell, most of the citizens had retreated back inside, afraid of what might be happening. Moments later, the Overlord’s creatures - formed by his crystals of dark magic - had sprung up at the city gates and now patrolled, carrying flaming torches, clearly waiting to attack anyone who might approach the city. 

This was not night time.

There was no night in the Nether. The sky remained constantly red. The Overlord had created this, probably to try and hunt down the others in the dark. He turned away from the door to where Tamora and Weisheng were waiting, holding one tiny lantern they’d stolen from the mines - its dim glow the only thing letting them see in this blackout.

“They really came for you,” Tamora commented, voice tight. “Your Jack. And the Jones and Narvaez boys.”

“And Ryan,” Geoff added, and saw her face harden further.

“Well,” she sneered. “You certainly are popular.”

He could see her trying to figure this out. He hadn’t told her how much all of them cared about each other, only that he was determined to get out to be with Jack again. It must be a shock to find that every other king had come to _rescue_ him. And if he knew anything about Queen Haywood, it was that she was even more obsessed with control than Ryan was. She mustn’t like this sudden new information.

“The Overlord will kill them,” she continued, darkly. “If they’ve come here through some portal, it means their mortal bodies are here, not just their souls. They can die in this world, unlike us.”

“Well, I’m going out to meet with them and help them,” Geoff said flatly. 

“That’s not the fucking plan,” she snapped - Weisheng was staring between the two of them with wide eyes, like a child watching his parents fight. “The plan is for us to find the door and get out of here while we have the chance. No looking back.”

“That’s your _fucking plan_ , maybe,” Geoff shot back. “Not mine.”

“Well, if we’re all leaving the city,” Weisheng piped up, nervously, “How about we stick together for now? Might as well. Safety in numbers and all that.”

Tamora and Geoff glared at each other for a moment longer, then Tamora nodded.

“The Overlord’s distracted right now,” she said. “He’s out of the city. In this darkness he won’t see us leave. There’s no better time.”

“Then let’s go,” Geoff said.

The building they were in was the lodging that Tamora had been assigned. Supposedly, Michael’s parents had lived here too, after they passed - but had since worked hard in the mines, and passed through to a permanent afterlife. Now, Weisheng took a rock from the floor, revealing a hidden hole where they’d buried the tools they needed to escape - the magical leashes, several pickaxes stashed from the mines, and a flint and steel. It wasn’t much, but it meant they at least had weapons and rope to help them get out.

The hole itself opened up into a tunnel Tamora had painstakingly dug from here to the mines. With her bare hands at first, until she stole the pickaxes. Sometimes Geoff thought about that - the woman sitting here night after night, tearing her hands to shreds as she ripped apart packed dirt and rock. There was something animalistic in the image - something terrifying to her determination. 

They filed into the narrow space, Geoff at the head with his lantern, and shuffled through tight passages of rock and dirt, passing through the mines and then through yet another secret tunnel that opened up near the city wall, where another hole led out into the wastelands beyond. They’d used this route before, usually sneaking out to meet up in the cliffs and caves to reconvene and plan.

They’d always returned to the city. The Overlord would come after them if he noticed they were missing - and he knew his subjects well, checked them all daily - besides, they didn’t have the numbers to fight him. But in this dark night he wouldn’t notice they were gone, and as long as he was hunting the others, he’d be so distracted he wouldn’t check the mines.

They shuffled along in silence, single-file through the cramped, winding tunnels.

“What makes you think Ryan is here for you?” Tamora demanded, abruptly, from behind Geoff.

Clearly the idea was bothering her, and Geoff couldn’t help his little smirk.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he grunted, as he squeezed through a particularly tight section of rock. He tapped the side of his head. “I can feel them all. The soul bond reignited when they arrived here.”

“I can’t feel it,” Tamora muttered.

“Well, you were never connected to any of them.”

“I was!” Weisheng piped up. “To all of them, before I was killed! I can’t feel it either!”

“Well, I don’t know,” Geoff said. “Maybe it’s because I was most recently killed?”

Tamora was silent. She was annoyed with him - Geoff could practically feel the hostility she was radiating, even more so than usual. She’d asked him numerous times about the state of the Stoneworld after her death, but Geoff wouldn’t give many details. He’d told her about Ryan’s golems, about the Wild and the games - but not the details of his relationship with Gavin and how that played into things. Not about how Ryan was their ally, now.

He wasn’t sure how the others would react if he appeared with these two in tow. Maybe he could, like… lose them in the wilderness somewhere. Run away when their backs were turned. He’d have to see.

They emerged from the mines at the city wall. As expected, the hole was still there, and the creatures were not patrolling here. One at a time they squeezed through, crawling out into the wide, empty expanses of the Nether.

It was strange being out here in the darkness, after every other time taking place under the red daylight sky. Eerie and lonely, even - nothing but flat stretches of rock and the knowledge that monsters were indeed lurking in the dark. But Geoff’s heart was pounding, and as he held the bright lantern up like a single star, he could taste freedom for the first time in what felt like years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Wild King was drowning](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/154975758139/troublehunting-the-wild-king-was-drowning) by troublehunting. Thank you so much! <3


	5. Chapter 5

**** Ray had never been scared of the dark, but he was frightened now as they walked into the village.

Maybe it was the black sky above them, unnaturally starless. Or the fact that the world was completely silent, save their own footsteps. The buildings loomed from the darkness, visible only in the passing torchlight - tall stone monoliths without any windows, their gaping dark doorways like screaming mouths - vanishing behind them as they passed down the dirt road that led through the centre of the town.

If it was a city, it was a small one, though surrounded by a high wall. The gates had been left wide open.

“It looks abandoned,” Jack commented. His voice made all of them jump, and Ray felt Gavin’s hand tighten in his. 

Still - it broke the silence that had built up between them, and Ray finally dared speak again.

“What is this place?” he breathed, staring around. “Are these meant to be houses? They all look the same.”

They paused before one of the buildings, staring up at it. The heavy wooden door was swinging open on its hinges, but inside was nothing but pitch blackness. It made Ray feel uneasy - like staring into an open grave. He was too afraid to go inside, and the others didn’t seem inclined to, either.

“There’s only this one main road,” Gavin commented, looking around. The houses continued at even intervals, narrow laneways between them, but otherwise the town stretched fairly methodically along one broad path. “Let’s see where it leads.”

“Probably just the back gate, knowing our fucking luck,” Ray muttered, and Gavin scoffed out a laugh.

They continued down the path. It did not, in fact, lead to the back gate, although the wall did continue around the entire commune. Instead, it sloped down until it reached a gaping opening in the ground, carved into rock steps that led steeply downwards into the earth, a horrible black hole that made Ray feel a bit sick to look at. It seemed like the sort of place an enormous spider might scurry from; or one of the monsters like the kraken. 

There were wheelbarrows outside the opening, and Gavin reached into one and emerged with a pickaxe. He hefted it, and looked down at the hole again.

“Mines!” he exclaimed. “This is a mining town.”

“That must be the work that they do here,” Jack mused, “Before the Overlord lets them go. Once this mine was empty, they probably moved on to a new location.”

Ray took a step back. He didn’t dare venture down there, into the darkness. He shifted closer to Jack, swallowing the churning feeling in his stomach.

Gavin just seemed intrigued. He started to move forward, and Ray lunged forward and grabbed his arm, dragging him back.

“Don’t go down there!”

He surprised himself with how hysterical he sounded. Gavin glanced over at him, eyes wide. Ray tugged him closer.

“Don’t go down there,” he repeated, quieter. “It… I don’t like it. I don’t think we’ll find anything except danger.”

“Alright. Calm down,” Gavin assured him, reaching up and patting his hand. “I just wanted to see what they were mining.”

“The edge of the pickaxe,” Jack commented, and Gavin tilted it into the torch’s light. The edge was singed with blackness that wouldn’t go away, even when he rubbed at it. It reminded Ray of the marks Gavin had left on Michael’s diamond sword after fighting the beast. 

“Those crystals the Overlord was chucking at us,” Gavin said thoughtfully. “Maybe they came from these mines.”

“Seems logical,” Jack said.

Gavin hummed. He threw the pickaxe back into the wheelbarrow and turned to face them.

“Let’s explore the town,” he declared, and Ray nodded, glad to leave the mine behind them. 

They trudged back up the road towards the houses, if that was what they were. Gavin picked one and led the way inside. Ray couldn’t help but marvel at how brave he seemed, striding in without a care. Then again, Gavin had always been like that. He didn’t like to show when things fazed him.

_He wasn’t like that earlier,_ he couldn’t help but think, recalling how Gavin had sat, trembling in his blankets. _Bad dreams, he said. What about?_

But it seemed Gavin’s confidence had returned now, or at least he seemed determined to pretend that it had. He walked right into the building, the others tentatively following, and stared around.

“Nothing,” he declared.

There was, quite literally, _nothing_ in the building. No furniture, no windows, no clothes… not a single sign of life. Just a bare stone floor, and bare stone walls, stretching up to a bare stone ceiling. Something about it only made Ray even more uncomfortable. It was like looking at an empty dollhouse, a fake model designed to give the appearance of a city, but in reality nothing but a hollow shell.

“Who were these buildings for?” Jack murmured.

“The miners, I’d imagine,” Gavin said, spinning in a slow circle. Their flickering shadows were cast on wall after wall, like an eerie dark crowd watching them. “The souls. They wouldn’t need much, I assume. Just lodgings. I wouldn’t be surprised if just about every building was like this.”

“We should check them, just in case,” Jack replied, and Gavin nodded. They headed outside and he paused. There were two torches in brackets on either side of the door, and he lit them both before passing one to each of them.

“Split up,” he suggested. “It will be faster.”

Ray hesitated. He didn’t like the thought of wandering through this ghostly city alone - but Gavin was already turning to go, and some suspicious part of Ray thought he seemed rather eager to leave. He exchanged a glance with Jack, who looked just as confused as him.

“Call out if anything happens,” Jack suggested, quietly. “Or do you want me to come with you?”

Ray’s cheeks flushed, embarrassed at being thought afraid, even if he knew Jack would never judge him for it.

“I’m fine,” he replied instead, and swallowed. “Besides, the town’s completely deserted, right? So we shouldn’t run into any trouble. The buildings will probably all be empty, anyway.”

“Exactly,” Jack said. He reached out and squeezed Ray’s arm, and Ray gave a small smile before turning away and wandering down the dark street.

He didn’t quite know what he was looking for. _Some_ sign of life, presumably - anything that might tell them more about this place, about how they might face the Overlord. 

He entered another building. At first glance, he thought it was empty just like the other house, but as he wandered back to the door he paused, noticing marks on one of the stone walls. He moved closer, and ran his hand over them.

They seemed to have been scratched with some thin, sharp object. They were clearly runes, but they weren’t any sort of letters that Ray recognised. All five kingdoms used the same writing system, so he was curious who could have left these.

_Souls from another world? Apparently there are more out there._

Whoever it was had written all down the entire wall. He left that building and wandered into the next one, searching now for similar signs of life. None on this house - but in the next there were images, scrawled on the wall with what looked like ash from the torches, the smudgy marks clearly painted with clumsy fingers. Images of trees, birds, what might’ve been a waterfall - it was hard to tell, as whoever had drawn it was not the most skilled artist Ray had ever seen.

He wondered who had drawn it. It was a sobering reminder that everybody in the Nether had once come from somewhere else - another world that they knew, and loved, and had been forced to leave behind. He could only hope that once they had passed on, they’d found some new peace.

_Most people pass through after a couple of months._ That was what Ryan had told them, based on his mother’s notes. It had taken them longer than that to open the portal - they could only hope Geoff had somehow clung on.

_Everyone else would be gone. Michael’s parents. Geoff would’ve been alone._

He walked back out into the street and closed his eyes. The silence was dizzying. After a moment he started to walk, feeling drawn down the road and towards one particular building - he wasn’t sure how, or why. When he opened his eyes he found himself standing in front of another identical house, but somehow he was not quite so afraid.

Something pulled him inside, almost magnetically. He lifted his torch and entered the building.

Like the others, it was a clinical, rectangular block with no furniture inside. But the walls were covered in drawings - more ashy smudges, drawn in makeshift black paint. Hardly an inch was left bare.

It was a garden.

Vines stretched up every wall, covered in flowers, berries, bunches of grapes. Different trees littered the background - the palms and flowered willows native to the Desert, with piny Alps in the background. Arching up from the floor were masses and masses of flowers - roses in one corner, lavender in another, hundreds of breeds he recognised from his own study-

It was his mother’s hand.

He recognised it immediately. She’d loved to paint and had frequently drawn murals over the walls in the palace. Sometimes when walking through the courtyards he’d pause, taking in the reminder of her - remembering sunny afternoons when he’d run out there as a child to find her sitting, painting away. She’d let him colour things in, if he promised to be neat, and he’d always been eager to please her.

Standing there surrounding by the black and white paintings in the flickering light, he felt now like he was standing in a shadow-world of those murals, of the lush gardens he’d walked through as a child, holding her hand. A lump rose in her throat and he collapsed to his knees, the torch falling from his hands - overwhelmed by a sudden, terrible upset.

_Oh, gods._

_They were here._

_Suffering here, for months - working down in those terrible, dark mines… living in these horrible buildings. Both of them were here. Of course she painted. It was her escape._

_They died and they came_ here.

The knowledge that he was in the very room where their spirits had resided for months sent a shiver down his spine; he clenched his fists, tears spilling from his screwed up eyes.

His parents had died suddenly.

They’d been taken over by an illness; a plague that had swept through the Desert when Ray was still a young man. He’d been spared somehow, but both of them had died in very close succession to one another, and he’d been thrust into the role of king far earlier than he’d ever expected. He’d thrown himself into his new responsibilities and barely given himself time to grieve.

But now - now it came spilling out, unable to be kept in any longer. He felt himself let out a broken cry, and his magic burst out of him - the rocky ground under him turned to soil, and thorny bushes sprang up around him, growing uncontrollably up the walls. His shoulders heaved with sobs and more magic pulsed out of him - thick, dark grass sprouting beneath him and cracking the stone floor as it burst from the ground, black roses blossoming and wilting in a second, falling in piles of crumpled petals to the ground. He clutched desperately at his chest, his heart aching in throbbing bursts.

“Ray?”

The voice broke through his hysteria and brought him back to reality. 

_Jack,_ he recognised - he twisted around, blinking away the tears that blurred his vision, and found the other man standing in the doorway, looking alarmed. He rushed to Ray’s side, heedless of how he had to pick his way through the sharp brambles covering the floor, and dropped to his knees beside him, reaching out and wrapping his arms around him, pulling him close.

“Jack…” Ray choked out, letting himself sink against the other man’s side and bury his face in his shoulder. Jack’s arms tightened around him, comforting and warm and _safe_ , and Ray hiccupped, trying to breathe slowly and get himself under control.

“Ray, what happened? Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

“Not hurt…” he reached up and swiped at his eyes, too upset to feel embarrassed. “My parents… my parents were here.”

Jack seemed confused. Then he looked around the walls and let out a hiss of breath; Ray’s own real vines had covered some of the art, but the rest of it was clearly visible, there was so much of it.

“Shit,” he breathed. “They drew all this?”

“My mother…” He sniffed, clearing his nose, and looked up, meeting Jack’s worried eyes. “My mother did. I’d know her work anywhere. They must’ve been here, must’ve worked in that mine after they died. My mother put the crown on after my father’s death, but so briefly she never got to rule. I guess at least they were here together.”

Jack nodded, his eyes soft and sympathetic. He hugged Ray closer to him, and Ray squeezed him back, needing the physical comfort.

“It must be hard,” Jack whispered. “Sometimes I forget how young you were. Michael, too.”  
  
“Your parents…?” Ray realised suddenly he’d never asked before.

“My mother’s still alive. My father was good friends with Geoff’s; he died some time ago. I was quite young then, too. You never really get over it, if you were close to your parents. It divides your life, in a way. Before and after. While they live, you feel safe. Once they’re gone… there’s an emptiness that nothing else can really fill.”

He’d worded it perfectly, and Ray could only nod.

“It’s even harder for you,” Jack continued, “Having to lead your whole country. But they’d be proud of you, Ray - so proud! Look what we’ve all accomplished.”

“Fucked things up with Michael for a bit, back there.”

“Not for long. And you’ve more than made up for it, now. With all these alliances, the Desert kingdom will prosper.”

“Assuming we all make it out of here alive.” These grim thoughts wouldn’t leave him. _Assuming we don’t lose more of us in here. Assuming Geoff’s still around for us to bring home._

Jack squeezed his shoulders again.

“We will,” he said, firmly, and Ray hugged him again.

There was a flicker of movement at the door. They both turned to find Gavin standing there, watching them. Ray wasn’t sure when he’d arrived, or how much he had heard. After a moment he turned and slipped away without a word.

Ray sighed, scrubbing at his face and trying to compose himself a bit. He hadn’t expected to have a breakdown like this, but then again, he hadn’t expected to find any trace of his parents in the Nether. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He let Jack pull him to his feet, and closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath at the same time as he released his magic and watched the plants die away, falling in wilted clumps to the ground. When he opened his eyes, he stared up at Jack, still watching him in concern.

“I miss them,” he said, simply. “I miss them a lot. I wish they could’ve been at my wedding, disastrous as it was. I wish I could talk to them about… about all this between us, ask their advice. I wish they could see the kingdoms united, how they are now. I know if they hadn’t died, none of this would’ve happened. I might not be married to Michael, I might not even have met you all. But still. I…”

He trailed off, unsure how to continue.

“I spent a long time trying to follow all their rules exactly,” he murmured. “Being as careful as possible. Trying to stay in control. Come to think of it, they probably wouldn’t have liked the idea of trusting Ryan - of expending all these resources just to get Geoff back.”

“I think they’d be proud to see you helping to bring the kingdoms together,” Jack said, softly. “Leading in your own way rather than just imitating them. Our parents shape us, but they don’t define us.”

Ray nodded. After a moment, he gave a small smile, and Jack smiled back. Ray’s heart swelled with affection for him. He knew Michael had looked up to Geoff for a long time, but suddenly he found himself nearly overcome with admiration for how well Jack had handled himself; how easily he seemed to see the right things to do in the world, how he had stepped up and taken command of his kingdom after his lover’s death, just as Ray’d had to do after his parents died.

He walked to the wall and gently touched it, memorising the images, these last vestiges of his mother. Then turned to Jack to speak, only to freeze when there was a loud _crash_ from outside.

“What the fuck was that?” Jack cried, whipping to face the door.

“Gavin!” Ray said, and they glanced at one another before rushing out, drawing their swords along the way.

He expected to see the Overlord outside, to find Gavin fighting more of his magical creatures. Instead, he was greeted to the sight of Gavin overturning a wheelbarrow resting against the wall of one of the houses, throwing it aside as though furious. He started running in and out of all the buildings, kicking the doors open, swinging his torch in wide arcs. Ray and Jack came to a faltering stop, watching with wide eyes as Gavin ran into the street again, and kicked over a wooden bucket, sending it skittering down the road.

“Damn it!” he cried, his voice breaking. His eyes were wide and frantic, his hair messy as though he’d been tearing at it.

“Gavin!” Jack called out. ”What are you doing?”

He began to run over to him, but leaped back when Gavin whirled around, brandishing the torch.

“Looking for-”

“What?” Jack cut in. He had his hands out, as though to tame a wild horse. Gavin finally went still, his shoulders heaving. Ray inched closer, alarmed by the other man’s erratic motions, the almost feral determination in his eyes.

“Something,” Gavin cried. “ _Anything!_ About my parents…” He turned to Ray, something pleading and broken in his face. “You found yours here. If… if mine came from the Wild they probably had magic, were witches, so there has to be _something_ … You recognised your mother’s handwriting,” he continued, voice cracking. “But I don’t know what the fuck I’d recognise even if I saw-”

He broke off with another frustrated noise, dropping the torch and clutching at his scarf, shaking. Ray had no idea what to say, or even what was going on. This had come quite out of nowhere. Then again, Gavin had been acting strangely on and off since his arrival in the Desert. Apparently this had been some sort of breaking point.

Jack walked towards him again, reaching out - but Gavin took a step back, and Ray didn’t miss the surprise and hurt that flickered across Jack’s face.

“Gavin,” Jack began, softly. “We don’t even know if your parents were here, let alone at what time they died. They’ve definitely passed on by now, it could have been _years_ ago, probably was-”

“I’m not fucking getting anywhere back in our world, Jack,” Gavin spat. “I searched the Wild high and low when I first became King. The witches never returned for me to ask _them_. So what am I meant to do? Just try and forget about it? Don’t you _get it_ \- everyone, all the rest of you, you have somebody to miss. Something to remember them by. Something to _live up to._ Not me.”

“Don’t worry about it _now-”_

“I worry about it every _single fucking day,_ Jack,” Gavin yelled. Ray and Jack both flinched at his sudden shout, and how it echoed through the silent night. “Now and then I can forget about it but something _always_ reminds me, in the end, that I’m just a… an orphan, a _nobody_. No bloodline. No history. Not even a bloody last name except for one I made up myself!”

Jack opened his mouth, but Gavin raised a hand.

_“Don’t_ tell me it doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “It does matter, to _me_ ,” he struck his chest with one closed fist and Ray felt a pained jolt, hating the raw desperation in his voice, something near to self loathing. It wasn’t something he’d ever seen from Gavin before, Gavin who was always so determined to prove everyone else wrong about him, who’d proudly declared himself king. “To people in every kingdom who see a Wild king who isn’t really a king…”

Jack’s face had fallen. His hand, outstretched, fell back slowly to his side. Gavin was scrubbing at his face now. His eyes were red when he looked up at them again.

“I just…” his voice broke, and he swallowed. “I just need to know, I need to _know_ \- none of you know what it’s damn well like not to have _anything- don’t!”_

This last as Jack tried to step towards him again. Gavin took another step back, and Ray saw something in Jack snap.

“What is going _on_ with you?” he demanded - he sounded angry, but Ray could hear the hurt beneath it, the desperate need to help. “Why do you keep pushing me away? We’re meant to be together, Gavin. We’re meant to-”

“ _You’re_ meant to be king!” Gavin shouted back, and Jack’s mouth snapped shut. “You’re meant to be married to - to royalty. You’re of noble birth, even if you’re not from the Ramsey line. You’re meant to have someone who knows the court and the protocol and who… who brings something to the table when they stand by your side.”

“ _What_?” Jack asked, sounding more confused than anything.   


“That’s what’s _meant_ to happen,” Gavin replied, through gritted teeth. “And for so long I thought fuck the rules, fuck all the propriety… what matters is whatever _we_ make. That’s how it works in the Wild. That’s how - _it works._ But that’s what got Geoff killed,” and he turned away, then, face crumpling. “The Wild.”

Ray had no idea what was going on. Gavin’s words were incoherent, broken by sniffs and his voice cracking, but there was clear, raw _pain_ in it, and when Ray reached out through the bond he could feel the turmoil churning on Gavin’s end - a mix of anger, sadness, _guilt_. 

“Gav,” he breathed, stepping forward. “This isn’t like you. You know that none of us think that.”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” Gavin spat. “It matters what _everyone_ sees. This is bigger than just _us_. We have people relying on us. Well, you all do,” he amended, glancing between them. “You who have actual kingdoms. Actual _responsibilities_. You need to think about them. About what they need. And I’m really, really not what they need-”

“Gavin, I couldn’t give two fucks what anyone in the Plains says.” 

Ray didn’t think he’d ever heard Jack sound so vicious before. He marched forward, holding Gavin’s gaze, refusing to back off this time.

“What _anyone_ says,” he continued, furiously. “Noble birth - what does that matter? Mark Nutt was of noble birth. Ryan’s court is filled with assholes who were born into their positions. Doesn’t make them smart.  Doesn’t make them good people. You think Geoff and I trusted you for no reason? You think you didn’t earn every single thing you have now? You’re brave and smart and strong and _that’s_ what counts. That’s why I love you.”

Gavin bit his lip. Jack had reached him by now, and took his hands.

“Did someone say something to you?” he asked.

It was a logical conclusion to come to, and Ray waited - the way Gavin glanced away was telling. He was silent for a long moment, then sighed.

“The last day I was in the Plains,” he admitted, quietly. “One of your counsellors. They’d seen us together the entire time I was there. They recognised me, of course. Everyone knows how Geoff’s fool stole the Wild crown. Most are not at all happy about it.”

Ray could only imagine. After the Plains’ humiliating defeat in the games, Gavin had been an easy scapegoat, and he’d heard how the tales had escalated. Geoff’s death hadn’t helped matters. It must’ve been a shock for a lot of people to see him again.

A less than welcome reception in the city he’d called home for years? It would have messed with anyone’s head.

Jack seemed to take this in. He lowered his head, letting out a long breath, then looked up again, meeting Gavin’s eyes and squeezing his hands.

“Aren’t you proud of what you’ve built in the Wild?” he urged.

“Yes, but-”

“But what?” Ray cut in, annoyed on his behalf. “Some old fart gets pissy about it and you believe them?”

“It’s not just that,” Gavin said, voice tight.

It wasn’t, Ray knew that. Things were never so simple. It was how words could eat at your mind, especially during weeks spent travelling alone through unfamiliar landscapes. It was how Gavin had never had parents, how these insecurities were deep rooted from a lifetime of feeling out of place.

“Gavin,” Jack said, softly. His anger had faded now; he looked like he understood. “When you were all together in the soul bond and I was the only one left out? I know how that felt, being the only one without magic. I know it’s not the same thing, but… I got jealous, I won’t deny it. It felt like you were all part of something that I wasn’t, and I didn’t know how I would ever fit in.” 

“You did fit,” Gavin murmured. “Even if you’d never taken the crown, you would’ve fit.”

“Exactly,” Jack said. “You might be the only one of us not raised in court, but that doesn’t make you any less royal. You said it yourself - whoever puts on the crown is king. That’s the only rule. But bad people have put on crowns before. It’s what you do with the responsibility that counts. And you - and Ryan - have done more than anybody in a long time.”

Gavin stared up at him with wide eyes. Jack glanced between him and Ray.

“It doesn’t matter what your parents did,” he said, firmly. “It doesn’t matter who they were, or what they believed. What matters is what _we_ do now. I don’t want to marry some rich nobleman from the Plains. I don’t want to marry an accomplished general, or a philosopher. I want Geoff,” and here his voice broke a little, and Gavin bit his lip again and looked away, at least until Jack shook him lightly. “And I want _you_. If you want us, too.”

“Of course I want you,” Gavin whispered, and Ray was the one to look away now - it was nice, seeing him admit it to Jack, but he couldn’t help but wish he was included. “I want you so much. But I want you to have the best possible for you.”

Jack looked ready to argue again, but Gavin stopped him with a look.

“Part of me is empty,” he said, clutching at his shirt over his heart again, his voice leaving no room for argument. “I wish you could fill it, I really do. And being with you does make it easier. But it… it’s getting harder and harder feeling like there is something I just do not have or know about myself. I don’t know who I am. I need to find it.”

Jack didn’t argue with him. He just nodded, slowly.

“We need to find Geoff first,” he urged. “But please, Gav - don’t push me away. I need you. Not any of those other people in court, I need _you_. And I don’t… I can’t do this without you, _please_. We need to find Geoff and you’re the only one who understands because you loved him, too. That’s part of who you are. Not the whole of it. But a part that matters to me.”

His voice was soft and broken too now, and Gavin looked stricken. He took a deep breath, and nodded.  
  
“You’re right,” he said, and then, “I’m sorry.”

Jack just pulled him into a hug, and this time Gavin hugged him back, fiercely. Ray watched the two of them, something bittersweet tugging at him.

There were broken things in all of them. He’d seen it in Ryan, time and time again; for all his self-confidence and control, times when he looked like nothing more than a furious little boy still trying to prove himself to the entire world. He’d seen it in Jack, in how despite his quiet dignity there was still such an intense grief beneath the surface. He’d seen it in Michael, mourning his own parent’s deaths, trying desperately to imitate those he’d seen as his heroes.

He saw it in himself, too - in how as much as he continued to progress his magic, sometimes he still felt like he was out of his depth, shutting away his own emotions so no one would know how uncertain he felt.

But it wasn’t the time or place to deal with all that, he knew. Not here, in the Nether.

When the two of them pulled apart, Gavin turned towards him and held out a hand. Ray moved forward to take it.

“I’m sorry, Ray,” Gavin said, sincerely. “I didn’t meant to take away from you finding your Mum’s stuff.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay,” Ray assured him, and forced a smile, though he knew his eyes must still be red. “I was upset, but I see why you’re upset too.”

“Still.” Gavin turned towards him fully and clasped both Ray’s hands in his. “That must have been hard. Are you okay?”

Ray nodded, sniffing to clear his nose. He gave another smile, more genuine this time.

“I will be,” he said. “I miss them, but I have Michael and all of you. And no matter what you find out, Gav - you have a family here with all the rest of us.”

Gavin nodded. His eyes were still sad, and Ray knew this wasn’t the end of it. But for now, it had been swallowed back down, and Gavin smiled and tugged Ray in, resting their foreheads together for a moment - a little, intimate motion. 

Gavin took a deep breath. When he pulled back, that usual bravado was back in his face.

“I shouldn’t let this distract us,” he declared, and clapped his hands together, sweeping his torch up from the ground again with his usual acrobatic energy. Ray wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not, but there was hardly time to dwell on it. “We need to find Geoff.”

 

* * *

 

“You’ve gotten us lost, you halfwit!”

Geoff rounded angrily on Tamora. In the light of their lantern she looked even more ghoulish than usual; her face lit up pale, the dark wells under her eyes and in every worn line of her face seeming black as chasms.

“We’re not lost,” he hissed back, furiously. “I know exactly where we are.” This was a lie; he had a _vague_ idea. At best. “We’re east of the city where all the rocks are.”

“There are rocks _everywhere!”_ Tamora exploded. She’d been growing testier with every step they took away from the city. “Stop for a fucking minute and let’s have a look around.”

Geoff obliged, pausing and raising the lantern. It didn’t help much. All they could see was what was in the immediate circle of light - namely dirt and a few boulders, and nothing but pitch blackness beyond. It was very, very hard to navigate in the dark, and this was becoming rather a problem. They’d been trying to make their way to their usual meeting point, a cave near where Geoff first landed when he’d woken up here.

But they couldn’t find it, and as they stumbled to a halt, Geoff was forced to admit to himself that maybe he didn’t have much of an idea where he was going.

Look, he was secretly trying to leave the others behind, too. That was his other mission here. He hadn’t quite worked out how he’d do that, yet.

“If the others came here, they must be at or near some sort of portal,” he mused.

Tamora stopped and rounded on him, glaring. She looked furious.

“What exactly is your plan here?” she demanded. “We know where the door is! It’s across the wasteland _south_ of the city! We could leave if you hadn’t taken us the wrong fucking way!”

“The others also came through a door,” Geoff argued. “I’m heading in the direction that golden light came from!”

“How do you know that? The light is _gone now!”_

_“Well I remember, don’t I?”_ Geoff shrieked, voice reaching the shrill proportions of a parrot whose tail has been stepped on. And then added, for good measure, “Bitch!”

“You _cretin_ ,” Tamora hissed back, and in doing so made Geoff realise he’d been pronouncing _cretin_ incorrectly his entire life.

“You shrivelled up, dusty old shrew!” he fired back. “You can’t even _leave_ here, you idiot, your body’s probably all rotten by now! You’re nothing but _bones_!”

“How do you know yours isn’t?” she snapped, and Geoff pulled a horrible face, turning away. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He’d been trying not to think about it. He hoped the others had preserved him, somehow? He couldn’t think why they would have, that was the problem. His other plan was that because he’d been the Plains king, he might somehow be able to return and exist in the Sight. Like a ghost. It would be better than nothing.

“I have plans,” Tamora continued after a moment, stiffly. “Unlike you, you troglodyte.”

“And what are those plans?” Geoff sneered.

“Doesn’t matter to you!”

“Well, you go to your door, and I’ll go to mine,” he informed her, haughtily. “Weisheng, you can go with her. I don’t want you.”

“That’s not very nice,” Weisheng protested. He seemed tired of their arguing, but he never really got involved. In fact, he never seemed to contribute anything much, just tag along with them and occasionally help with the heavy lifting. Geoff didn’t really mind; it was nice having someone else from their world around aside from Tamora.

“Your body’s literally torn to shreds,” Geoff said to him. “I saw it. It was horrifying.”

“Yes, you told me before,” Weisheng sighed. “Extensively. I do remember the beast. Something like that is quite hard to forget about.”

“So you have no body to go back to. What’s _your_ plan?”

“Whatever hers is,” Weisheng said, a bit lamely, and nodded towards Tamora, whose arms were folded now, scowling coldly at both of them.

“She hasn’t shared with you if there’s a way to return without a body?” Geoff asked. The look on Weisheng’s face was answer enough, and Geoff scoffed. “Then she’s never going to. She’s just in it for herself.”

“Aren’t we all?” Tamora said, slowly.

“Unlike you,” Geoff snapped, “I actually _care_ about other people. I’m going back for the _others_.”

“Ah yes,” Tamora sneered, “Because they all love you so much.”

“They do, actually!” Geoff shot back. He knew he shouldn’t rise to her baiting, but he couldn’t help it. He was so _close_ , now, so desperate, and it felt like it had been so long since he saw the others. “That’s why they came for me! That’s why _you’ve_ been rotting in here for years, never actually able to escape. And good fucking riddance - the world is a better place without you.”

“Yet here you are,” Tamora said, her face twisting cruelly, “Helping me to return, or you have been.”

“I’m not helping you for you. You’re right, each of us is in it for ourselves.”

“This is a reassuring conversation,” Weisheng piped up. They both ignored him, scowling at one another.

“What will you even do once you’re back?” Geoff snarled, waving the lantern furiously. “Ryan is king, now. Are you gonna try ruin the world some more? Kill even more people, huh?”

“Reclaim my kingdom,” she informed him, frostily. “And restore it to order.”

“It’s in perfect order.”

“With Ryan in charge?” she gave a derisive snort. “Not fucking likely.”

A hot, defensive anger washed over Geoff in a sudden wave.

“Don’t you say a fucking thing about him,” he spat, surprising himself with how viciously it came out.

“What do you care?” Tamora asked, lifting her chin, but Geoff was already barrelling on.

“He’s a better leader than you ever were!” he yelled. “You have no fucking idea how much he’s done for your kingdom! The people are happy and productive, it’s safer than it’s ever been - no problems with the Wild, technological advancements, economic prosperity-”

“All he ever did was fuck around in his lab,” Tamora said, viciously. “There’ll be an uprising soon enough, you wait and see. He’s weak, always has been.”

“He’s strong without being cruel,” Geoff snapped. And then, snidely, “Not so weak that he couldn’t kill _you_.”  
  
Tamora’s face went even paler with fury.

“I bet someone’s already tried to kill him,” she snapped instead. Geoff couldn’t help it; he thought of the assassination attempt he’d felt against Ryan, and his face must’ve given it away. Tamora noticed, and barked out a harsh laugh. “They have, haven’t they? It won’t be long before he gets murdered just like how he murdered me. Maybe it’ll even be someone he trusts. Wouldn’t that be poetic justice?”

“You shut the fuck up,” Geoff choked out. His fists were clenched by his sides, and he was trembling with rage. The coldness in her voice, how she talked about her own _son_ \- it infuriated him.

“Why are you so defensive about him?” Tamora asked, tilting her head, eyes glittering. “You hate him. Always have-”

Before Geoff quite knew what he was doing, he swung the lantern and hit her across the face with it. She broke off with a choked cry, stumbling backwards, clutching her jaw where she’d been hit - then she straightened up, cold and furious, and lunged at him. She was a tall woman, as tall as him, and when she swung a leg out and kicked him in the stomach it was like being kicked by a fucking horse. Before he could recover, she was punching him in the throat - a short, hard strike that made him choke and his vision go black for a moment - she threw him to the ground and his back hit the rock hard, punching out a wheezing groan.

“Guys?” Weisheng began.

Geoff wasn’t listening to him. Tamora had tackled him and he was fending off her talon-like fingers as they clawed at his eyes. He got a hand free and punched her across the face, rolling over on top of her before tearing at her throat with his own nails as she kicked wildly at him.

“ _Guys!”_ Weisheng shouted again - this time loudly enough that they stopped brawling and looked up at him. Geoff had barely registered that despite dropping the lantern he was able to see the other man, when Weisheng pointed up at the sky.

“It’s getting brighter,” he said.

Sure enough, the sky was no longer black, but a deep maroon - and slowly lightening. Geoff could make out the rocky landscape around them as the world began to brighten. Whatever magic the Overlord had cast must have worn off.

Tamora clambered to her feet and brushed herself off. Geoff did too. His throat ached where she’d hit him, his stomach too, but he pushed the pain away and looked around. He had a better idea of where they were, now that he could see the city in the distance. They’d travelled quite a way.

“So how are you planning on finding them, genius?” Tamora hissed. Her hair was dishevelled, her jaw scraped and bleeding where she’d hit him.

Geoff had no answer for a moment. If only he still had the Sight! He closed his eyes, as though if he reached hard enough he might be able to float away like he used to, to see the whole landscape for above.

It didn’t work.

Instead, he felt Gavin.

The others were still settled comfortably in the back of his mind, a reassuring fullness after months of nothing but silence and emptiness. But now - Gavin burned brighter than the rest, as though he was expanding and filling Geoff’s mind.

Geoff reached towards him. He’d never really done this before - actively travelled along the threads connecting him to one of the others. But he stretched towards him now, following his thread as though he was reeling in a fish.

He could feel him nearby. Jack and Ray, too, clearer and brighter than the others. Gavin wasn’t responding - but Geoff could sense where he was, he thought. Like a compass, always turning back to one particular direction.  
  
He opened his eyes, though he paid little attention to his surroundings, all of his focus on the mental connection, and began to walk.

“Where are you going?” Tamora snapped.

“To find the others,” he replied, distantly, not turning around.

“You’ll get lost! That’s not the right way!”

“Come if you want, go if you want. I know what _I’m_ doing.”

After a moment, Weisheng scuttled after him. He heard Tamora make a furious noise - but she, too, followed him across the barren landscape, away from the city in a direction they’d never been before.

 

* * *

 

“Ryan. Ryan, I think it’s morning,” Michael whispered.

Ryan stirred, waking dazedly. He’d been dozing off, drifting in and out of dreams that he couldn’t remember now, but which had filled him with unease - some lurking dark presence seemed to hover next to him. A danger, a demon, a heaviness settled on his chest. He vaguely remembered blood on his hands that he couldn’t get off.

Now Michael’s face swam into view above him. He was close - so close their noses nearly touched, yet somehow Ryan didn’t mind, didn’t rear back or flinch like he might once have. Instead there was something reassuring about those warm brown eyes, that easy boyish face. For a brief moment he seemed so innocent that Ryan worried at touching him - at turning him from steady, solid stone into something active, powerful, dangerous.

They were odd thoughts, shifting in and out of his mind as he roused. Then he leaned back with a groan and rubbed his eyes as it came back to him exactly where they were, and what they were doing.

“You okay?” Michael asked.

“Yeah,” Ryan grunted, and looked around. Sure enough, he could see the walls of the cave around them, and in the cavern’s mouth a deep red sky was slowly becoming visible. “Oh, you’re right. It’s light out.”

Michael was still staring at him.

“Were you dreaming?” he asked.

“Why?”

Michael touched his own cheek, as though indicating Ryan had something on his face. Confused, Ryan reached up and frowned. His cheeks were wet. He expected his fingers to come away bloody for some reason, and startled - but they didn’t; his face was damp with tears, not blood. He wasn’t sure why he had felt such a sense of dread. Why he was so relieved, now, when there was no reason he should’ve expected to see red.

“I don’t remember,” he murmured.

Michael looked worried. His concern was touching, but Ryan was still feeling off, and didn’t dwell on it. He got to his feet instead, stretching - his back ached from sleeping on the rocky ground - and walked to the cave entrance to peer outside.

Now that it wasn’t so dark, he could see where they were in relation to the city. It was still quite distant, but they’d headed in the right direction through the mountain. He turned and thought he could see the cliff where the door had been - where the others still might be.

“The fuck are those?” Michael asked, coming up next to him and pointing out across the landscape.

Ryan looked down, and grimaced. There were enormous craters in the ground, huge black holes stretching bottomlessly down. They were scattered at seemingly random intervals. It was like the Nether had turned into the surface of the moon overnight. Although it’d been too dark yesterday to really see, Ryan was pretty sure nowhere in the Nether had there been holes like this before. They would’ve seen them from the clifftop.

“Did the Overlord put those there in the night?” Michael demanded.

“I think so,” Ryan muttered, staring down at them. He felt a bit dizzy, looking into that endless darkness. Wondering what it would be like to fall forever.

Michael stared a moment longer, then turned away.

“Come on,” he said softly, and Ryan shook himself.

They packed quickly, and with the golems beside them they headed out of the cavern and down a sloping trail to the surface below. The craters were alarming, but there was enough land in-between them that it shouldn’t be hard to avoid them as they headed back towards the cliff where the others were.

“Did you sleep okay?” Ryan asked, as they walked. The sweltering heat was back and they had both taken off their cloaks as they trudged along. Their water supplies wouldn’t last too long, not in this weather. He already felt headachy and dehydrated just from sleeping overnight.

“I always sleep okay,” Michael replied cheerfully.

“What, you never have bad dreams?”

“Not often,” Michael said, and shrugged. “For all the bloodshed and danger of the Alps, I guess over there we have such a simple view on things that I don’t get stressed a lot. Not fucking sure, I just sleep very soundly - always have.”

“An enviable trait,” Ryan murmured, and Michael glanced at him sidelong, a little furrow between his brows.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, and Ryan sighed.

“I will be,” he replied, tiredly. He registered, vaguely, that it was strange he felt so comfortable with Michael, given that usually he hated showing weakness, and especially seeing as he knew him the least well. But they had all spent so much time inside one another’s heads by now that perhaps there was little point hiding any longer.

Michael opened his mouth again, but before he could say anything, that telltale rumble of thunder rang out. Ryan’s heart dropped.

There was nowhere to hide.

They were out in the middle of the Nether’s rocky expanses. Nothing but bare earth behind them - and ahead, two of those enormous craters. He and Michael glanced at each other, drawing their swords - the golems, behind them, adopted fighting stances. They looked up at the sky, waiting-

But it was one of the craters that the Overlord burst suddenly out of, launching himself from the darkness into the air in a whirlwind of black. It happened so abruptly that neither of them had time to react, and before Ryan knew what was happening the demonic figure was suddenly hovering in front of them. He drew an enormous whip from gods-knew-where, considering he was completely nude, and lashed out with it. Its tongue struck Michael and he gave a pained shout that stabbed at Ryan’s heart, before falling writhing to the ground, his sword dropping from his hand.

“Michael!” Ryan yelled. A burning rage consumed him and he ran for the Overlord, sword raised - but the horned creature turned towards him and threw another handful of black crystals down.

Those smoky, dark figures appeared again, surrounding Ryan, who turned in a slow circle, assessing the situation. There were five of them, eerie faceless forms, unarmed but with their long, sharp fingers raised like claws.

They advanced on him, and he swung his sword at one with a shout. It passed through the creature like mist, but his second strike rang off it as though he’d struck steel. It seemed impossible - one second they were solid, the next incorporeal, and though he ducked a swipe from one of them, a moment later another punched him hard in the stomach. He doubled over, and barely raised his sword to block another blow. But there were too many - he was surrounded, and talons raked across his face, tearing through flesh and drawing blood. More claws dug into his shoulder, and a cascade of blows rained down on him. He fell to his knees, and his sword was knocked from his hand.

Two of the creatures grabbed his arms, forcing them behind his back - another picked his sword up and held the blade to his throat. He fell still - his cheek burning, blood dripping in spatters that sizzled when they hit the hot ground.

Michael, nearby, was only just struggling to his hands and knees - only to crumple again when the Overlord laughed, and lashed out with his whip, striking him again.

“Stop!” Ryan choked out. He struggled in the creatures’ grip, but they wouldn’t be budged. As he watched, the whip cracked again, and Michael gave a strangled yell of pain, curling in on himself. He was bleeding, Ryan could see it spotting through his shirt. “Don’t you fucking touch him-”

Calling on the rage and pain filling him, he sent out a blast of magic. The ground around him blazed red as the stone beneath his knees turned to spreading, burning redstone, and the creatures stumbled back in surprise, releasing him.

The shining blaze of light had made the Overlord turn towards him, surprised. Ryan rose from the ground, grabbing his sword. With a furious scream, he launched himself into the air towards the Overlord-

Only for the Overlord to turn at the last moment. Ryan’s sword hit nothing but empty air, and he stumbled. The Overlord grabbed the sword by the blade and snatched it from Ryan’s hand so hard that it wrenched his wrist, making him cry out in pain again. He tossed the sword away like it was nothing, and then seized Ryan himself by the throat, lifting him into the air.

He could feel his neck burning at the Overlord’s firey touch, and choked as his breath was cut off, fingers digging into his windpipe. For a panicked moment he thought the Overlord would snap his throat right then and there, and he thrashed like a fish caught on a hook-

But then he was thrown to the ground beside Michael. He lay for a moment, winded and choking as he struggled for breath.

“I have to say!” the Overlord roared above them as he watched them painfully try to recover. “I am _intrigued!_ All the kings coming here like this - whatever could it be for? And working together, no less! It can’t have been easy figuring out how to open that portal!”

“Michael,” Ryan choked out, turning his face towards him. “Are you okay?”

Michael was trying to sit up. His face was dazed, and blood was running from his back and side where the whip had struck him.

In the corner of his eye, Ryan saw the Overlord draw the whip back again, and he lunged in front of Michael just as it cracked down.

It struck his back like a bolt of lightning, sending burning agony coursing through him from his head to his toes. He curled in on himself, wheezing for breath, feeling like every muscle in his body had locked tight.

“Shit,” Michael hissed, and Ryan felt his hands on him, trying to hold him steady. “Shit, Ryan-”

“And _protecting_ one another!” the Overlord continued, sounding delighted by the novelty of all this. “Now that is new!”

They didn’t try to rise again. Ryan let himself fall back in Michael’s arms, the two of them kneeling, clinging to one another - helpless and hurt. The Overlord touched back down on the ground and strode towards them, leaning down to peer at them with his crimson eyes.

“You know,” he said, staring directly at Ryan, “I have been greeted to the sight of your mother’s face for years now, and she’d never have put so much as her fucking pinky toe on the line for somebody else. Apple falls far from the tree, I suppose.”

_What?_ Ryan thought, staring at him in confusion, his mind blanking at the statement. _My… my mother?  
  
_ “Impossible,” he choked out, staring the creature in the eye. “She died years ago, she… she shouldn’t still be here-”

The Overlord huffed out a great sigh.

“And she’s been _clinging on here_ , gods know what for!” he replied, throwing his hands up. “I’ve been trying to rid myself of the woman for almost a decade but this bitch just. Will. Not. _Quit!_ No matter how much work I give her, she just refuses to be worn down. It’s almost impressive. But mostly just kind of sad. I mean, she’s already _dead_ , she simply won’t accept it. _”_

Ryan felt sick. Dizzy. He was still struggling to process this.

His mother had passed on. He was sure of it. She was gone forever, he’d never see her again - he didn’t _want_ to. For too long her ghost had already haunted him in the heavy guilt he carried with him at his actions, a secret he wanted no one to know. He’d just been starting to move past it.

Now, the prospect that they might be about to see each other again…

He just couldn’t get his head around it. He felt _scared_ , he realised suddenly - so scared that despite the heat of the Nether and the Overlord’s firey face inches from his, he felt quite cold all over.

“Well!” the Overlord declared then. “It’ll be quite the family reunion, won’t it? Come on then!” He turned to his magical creations, lurking in the background watching, and ordered, “Take them.”

They stepped forward, and dragged Ryan and Michael to their feet. Ryan moved numbly, unable to muster the energy to resist. He ached all over, and he could see Michael eyeing him with concern as the other man stumbled by his side, but he couldn’t even bring himself to look back at him.

_Mother_.

His thoughts were a dizzying swirl. He hadn’t let himself dwell on her in a long time, but now it all came rushing back. Her cold eyes, her soldier’s stance - the snap of her voice as she barked orders. Things too familiar to him from his childhood, that he thought he’d put behind him, rebuilding the Stoneworld according to his own vision.

The thought of facing her again…

It filled him with an icy horror. He wanted to believe he would be strong, that he’d look her in the eye and tell her to go fuck herself and that not a sliver of regret for his decision would show in his face.

But he felt _weak_ , right now. Unsettled from his dream and his injuries and the shock of all this, and he stumbled numbly along towards the city, lost in his own thoughts.

 

* * *

 

“Something’s wrong,” Ray said.

They were standing in the main street of the mining town. It was light by now, and they’d found nothing useful in the village since arriving. But, moments ago, they’d felt something new - pain, shock, fear, all radiating from Michael and Ryan’s ends of the bond.

They were still alive, and not close to death at all. That was the only reassuring thing. But when Ray reached out for Michael now, he felt a swirl of darker emotions. _Despair. Hurt. Worry_.

Jack was frowning. He’d felt it as well, and Ray didn’t doubt that he, too, was reaching for the others.

“Something happened,” he agreed now. “Maybe they encountered the Overlord? Or maybe something else.”

“Ryan’s upset,” Gavin added quietly, nodding. “I can feel it.”

He looked pale and drawn, a little awkward after his outburst earlier. But this new event had pushed them all to move on from it.

“We need to find them,” Gavin continued. “But I’m not sure where they could be. I could send the Endermen to explore-”

A rumble of thunder made them all jump. A dark blur on the horizon was streaking towards them, and Ray felt a jolt of panic.

“Hide!” he hissed. He grabbed Jack’s arm, tugging him towards the open doorway of the nearest house. Gavin scrambled after him, and they all stumbled inside, pressing themselves back against the wall.

The Overlord flew overhead, a dark mass spearing through the red sky. He vanished off into the distance, passing over the town without noticing them as they peered out the open door. When he disappeared, they all slumped in relief.

“He went towards the city,” Gavin observed. “He must be returning there. Do you think he’s taken the others?”

“He might have,” Jack said, grimly. “I’ll use the Sight to check.”

He tilted his head back, eyes casting over with white. The others kept close by his side, guarding his body as his face slackened and went vacant. A silence fell over them, and Ray looked over at Gavin. He was crouched, one hand on Jack’s shoulder, a little frown on his face.

“Hey,” Ray whispered. “You feeling okay?”

He was still concerned about Gavin after that little breakdown earlier. Gavin glanced over at him, something a little embarrassed crossing his face. He nodded.

“Sorry about before,” he replied, quietly.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Ray reached over and put a hand on his arm. “But all that shit you were saying - you know none of us think that, right? You’re as much a king as the rest of us.”

Gavin bit his lip. He was silent for a moment, looking away.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he said finally, slowly. “It’s that I’m scared all _this,”_ he gestured between all three of them, “Won’t work. Or that I’ll lose you because of it.”

“You won’t,” Ray said. “None of us would ever let that happen.”

Gavin nodded again. He took a deep breath, and when he looked over at Ray, he gave a small smile. Ray smiled back - at that moment, Jack returned, stirring with a gasp.

“They’ve been captured!” he said, frantically. “By more of those creatures from the crystals.  The Overlord’s taking them back to the city.”

Ray’s heart clenched. The Overlord, earlier, had been so powerful that he was frightened to think of how easily he could kill or hurt the others now they had fallen into his grasp.

“Are they alright?” he demanded.

“They’re both conscious and walking, but… the situation is not good.” 

“Well, we’ll just have three people to rescue instead of one, then,” Gavin said, rather matter-of-factly.

“We’re fucking outnumbered with all of his magic!” Jack cried, fear making him sound annoyed. “We’ve only got a couple of your mobs left, and all Ryan’s golems were destroyed-”

“Ray’s magic is powerful,” Gavin said, calmly. “I can sneak in - if the city wall is anything like the one around this town, I’m agile enough to get over it. Your Sight gives us a tactical advantage; we can figure out where in the city they are and even communicate with them if need be. So let’s get closer to the city and come up with a plan.”

Whether it was faked or not, his confidence reassured Ray. He nodded, and after a moment Gavin put a hand on Jack’s shoulder, gazing steadily into his eyes until he nodded as well.

They hurried out into the street and headed for the back gate. Ray was trailing at the back of the ground when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him, running down the rocky road. He started to turn when a voice called out:

“Ray!”

He froze. The voice was so familiar, but he hadn’t expected to hear it so soon, and as he saw the man running down the road towards him, his heart nearly stopped.

_Geoff?  
  
_ He was sprinting towards them, a wild, desperate joy on his face. He looked worn down, exhausted and thin, and something very drawn about his face - he hadn’t aged, but it looked like he’d flaked away somehow, like an old painting, the colours dulled and his skin weathered. He wore tattered rags of work clothes, and there were scars trailing over his arms that hadn’t been there before - but he was _grinning_ , his blue eyes sparkling, and it was _Geoff_ , looking as real as everything else around them. Gods, it was _him,_ and Ray’s chest filled with a swell of some emotion so sudden and warm that he thought he might burst.

The others had turned, too. He heard them suck in gasps, but Geoff was sprinting towards them and all Ray’s focus was on him. He ran to meet him and they collided in the middle of the street, catching one another in a tight embrace. Geoff felt solid and warm, and real, and _alive_ , and it was everything Ray had been thinking about since they started this quest. The other man’s arms around him, his broad chest, the scratch of his beard against Ray’s cheek as he buried his face in his shoulder.

“Geoff,” he gasped out. It sounded like a sob. “Gods. Geoff. You’re here, you’re-”

“ _I’m_ here?” His voice was exactly as Ray remembered it. How he’d heard it in his dreams. “ _You’re_ here. Oh my gods, Ray, you don’t know how good it is to see you-”

“I missed you-”

“You’re _here_.” Geoff’s arms tightened around his waist, nearly crushing the breath out of him. They pulled apart a little and Ray reached up, touching Geoff’s face, fingers brushing tentatively over the rough skin and his stubbly beard. Just feeling the other man made something well up in his chest, reassured him that this was no dream. He was vaguely aware of the others rushing up behind him, but for a moment it was just the two of _them_ \- Geoff’s eyes like the bright sky of their world gazing at him, soft and loving. He thought he might cry - felt a swelling pressure in his chest - with how much of a relief it was.

He still couldn’t feel Geoff in the soul bond, even standing right beside him, but that didn’t matter. At least he was here, in front of him. With him.

“Geoff!” Jack cried behind him. “Geoff-”

Ray stepped aside so the two of them could move in together. When Geoff saw Jack his eyes lit up; he rushed forward and the two of them clasped each other’s arms. The look that passed between them nearly broke Ray’s heart; it was tender. Happy, but at the same time bittersweet as they both seemed to realise the weight of the last six months spent apart.

“Jack,” Geoff breathed out.

Jack promptly started crying. It startled Ray, because even in the other man’s grief, he’d always been restrained. Quiet tears, or a desolate silence. Not like these sudden heaving, out of control sobs.

“Oh, gods,” Geoff said. “Does the sight of my face make you that upset?”

“No! It’s not that.” Jack started to laugh, but he was trembling and still couldn’t stop his tears.

“I’m just joking,” Geoff said. His eyes were glistening as well, and his voice was thick as he continued, “Surely you’re just overcome with joy.”

Jack kept touching him, his hands running over Geoff’s arms, reaching up to clasp his face, as though he couldn’t quite believe he was real. After a moment Geoff pulled him into a desperate hug - then a kiss, a series of small slow ones peppered over Jack’s lips and face.

Ray turned to Gavin. He was staring at Geoff with huge eyes, hands pressed over his mouth like he was trying to hide his own face, like he still couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“I love you,” Jack mumbled. “I missed you so much. I’m sorry, I’m trying to stop crying-”

“It’s okay.” Geoff was getting a bit weepy too, now. He sniffed vigorously and added, “I missed you, too. I held on for you. If there was even the slightest chance that I could come back, I knew I had to take it. I didn’t think you’d all come here to get me! I should’ve known you wouldn’t give up so easily.”

They hugged again. Jack buried his face in Geoff’s shoulder, and Geoff squeezed him tightly - then looked past him at Gavin. His face softened and he gave a slow smile before holding out an arm. Gavin moved forward tentatively, but Jack reached out and tugged him in between them. The three of them embraced tightly, and Ray smiled and turned away to give them a moment of privacy.

He found two others standing at the roadside, watching them in silence. One of them stepped forward - a man, looking even more worn away than Geoff was, with tangled dark hair and a scruffy beard.

“Hey,” he said, holding out a hand to Ray, a bit awkwardly.

“Hey,” Ray replied, wary around a stranger. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Weisheng. I was the previous Wild king, until some monster killed me in a cave.” Ray nodded, face lighting up with recognition as he shook the other man’s hand. “Narvaez, right?”

“Ray,” Ray introduced himself. “You’ve been helping Gooff try and find a way to get out?”

“Yes,” Weisheng began, only for the other figure to step up. Ray turned and found a woman, stony faced, eyes fixed on Geoff and the others. His heart dropped.

He’d recognise the Stone queen anywhere. They’d never met in person, but he’d seen paintings and drawings of her - not to mention that Ryan took after her. Even at a glance, her features clearly resembled his, and there was no question that they were related.

He froze, and she raised one eyebrow as she noticed him.

“So you’re the Narvaez child,” she said. Her voice sent a shiver down his spine; it was deep, commanding, and held no interest or affection, just pure, uncaring coldness.

Ray swallowed, and forced himself to look blank as he stepped towards her.

“Queen Haywood,” he replied, flatly. “I’m Ray.”

She tilted her head like a vulture sizing up its next meal as she stared down her nose towards him.

“I met your parents, coming through here, after they died so tragically suddenly,” she observed. Ray stiffened, and she must’ve noticed. Her lips twitched as she continued. “All a lot of weeping and tears! _Oh no, whatever will our son do now?_ Apparently make the world’s stupidest decision, and leave his country without a leader to come flounce about here in the Nether instead.”

There was something so casually cruel in the words. Ray could only stare at her, shocked and hurt. After finding his mother’s images earlier, he was sensitive about his parents, and couldn’t think of a response.

“Hey, Tamora. Come on,” Weisheng said, uncomfortably.

“Oh, you shut the fuck up,” she snapped at him. “You’ve done barely anything to help the rest of us get out of here.”

“What…” Ray swallowed, his voice cracking, and tried again, “What are you still doing in here?”

“ _Getting out_. The same as you. Obviously,” she said, shooting him a condescending look.

_What the fuck,_ Ray thought, confused. Still - he turned his back on her, unsure what was going on but hoping Geoff would explain.  
  
The other man was still tangled up in the others. As Ray watched, he reached to cup Gavin’s cheek, then tilt his chin up. He was smiling, his eyes wet.

“I missed you,” he said, softly. “I felt you the strongest, you know. Probably because of your magic. That’s how I tracked you down after we escaped from the city.”

“You can feel us?” Gavin asked, confused. “We can’t feel you in the bond.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Geoff  replied. “We’ll figure it all out later. Come here. I’ve had a lot of time to think and to reflect and to, to _regret_. Regret the things I didn’t do - with _both_ of you. Because I was too slow, or too scared. Not any longer.”

Gavin nodded. He stepped closer and leaned up, Geoff meeting him halfway in a gentle kiss, Jack watching with smiling eyes. Ray couldn’t help but grin as well. It had been too long coming, and though it began slow, soon Geoff’s hands were tangled in Gavin’s hair, lips working desperately against his, Gavin’s own hands gripping the front of his shirt tightly.

Tamora made a rather confused, annoyed sound beside him. Ray glanced at her, but despite her sour face, he couldn’t help being happy. When they pulled apart, Gavin was smiling again. It was nice to see.

“Well then,” Geoff said, and Gavin gave a little giggle before they all turned back to the others. “Where are the others?”

“Ah,” Jack said, his smile fading. “That’s the problem we were about to address right when you got here.”  
  
“Problem?” Geoff asked.

“Yes,” Tamora agreed then, striding forward. “Where is my son?”

Jack noticed her for the first time. His eyes widened, and he glanced at Geoff, then recoiled.

“What is she doing here?” he demanded. It was surprising to see him suddenly so aggressive; usually he was the picture of diplomacy.

Geoff rubbed the back of his neck a bit awkwardly.  
  
“Yeah, she’s, uh, been sticking around in the Nether since she died because she’s determined to get back somehow. It’s ridiculous, because she’s all rotten by now. Although I guess I might be too.”

A flash of fear crossed his face, but Jack was already shaking his head.

“We sealed you in redstone. Ryan’s idea.”

“Ryan preserved your body?” Tamora demanded. Her voice was tight, even if her face gave nothing away.

Geoff grinned, seeming relieved.

“Most people get so worn out by the work, and time, that eventually the Overlord sends them off through another portal to what he calls ‘Eternity’ - I assume it’s the regular afterlife, and I damn well hope it’s more peaceful than what’s here. But she just refuses to go.”

Tamora lifted her chin.

“I was murdered before my time. I have no desire to give up so easily.”

“We had our own plan to get out of here,” Geoff continued, “but it wasn’t going so well. You have a portal closer by?”

“We did,” Gavin said. “We were attacked by the Overlord as soon as we arrived the other day.”

“There are no days here,” Geoff explained. “He made that darkness. The others are-”

“Captured,” Ray cut in. “They’ve been taken to the city.”

Geoff exchanged a glance with Weisheng, who was wringing his hands nervously.

“Shit,” he said, finally. “That’s not good. We’ll have to rescue them.”

“We have to get out!” Tamora said, angrily. “Where’s your door?”

“Like we’re telling you,” Gavin snapped. Tamora turned slowly towards him, eyes pointedly scanning over him, head to toe. Gavin stared defiantly back.

“Who’s the witch?” Tamora asked, and Gavin lifted his chin.

“Gavin Free,” he said. “The Wild King.”

They stared at each other for a moment, both refusing to back down. Ray was glad to see Gavin’s spirit seemed to be back - he was reminded of when they’d first seen the other man when he came to join their meeting in the Stoneworld. How comfortably he’d fit in his own skin, steady in his power and wearing magic like a fashionable cloak. Tamora didn’t quite seem to know what to make of him; she eyed him a moment longer before turning away.

“So your plan is to go to the city and rescue them?” she demanded. “The Overlord can’t hurt us, but he could hurt them. They have their mortal bodies here, not just their souls. They can be killed, permanently.”

“We’ll think of something,” Jack said, and glanced around at them. “With you all here we have a bigger advantage. More numbers. More knowledge.”  
  
Geoff nodded, smiling.

There was still a lot to catch up on. Ray wanted to know all about what went on in the city, what Geoff had been through the last six months. He knew Geoff must want to know what they’d all been doing to. Not to mention Weisheng and Tamora and everything that was going on with them. Their presence was a surprise, and not a particularly welcome one.

But right now, at least, Geoff couldn’t stop grinning, and Jack did too after a minute, and even Tamora’s judgmental eyes on them couldn’t abate the way Ray’s heart soared when he was pulled with the others into a clumsy group hug - Jack’s arm around his waist, Gavin’s head on his shoulder, Geoff’s forehead resting against his - they’d continue fighting, but for now they took a moment just to enjoy the fact that they were together once again.


	6. Chapter 6

Gavin knew he should be happy.

Well, somewhat happy. He was afraid for Ryan and Michael, but with the others there - and with their knowledge of the city and the Overlord - they had a solid shot at rescuing them.

He should be happy that they had found Geoff. He should be happy that, for all intents and purposes, _that_ part of their mission was going remarkably well. Geoff would come back through the door with them. They’d all be together. They’d all be _together_.

Geoff had kissed him.

That had been unexpected. He’d been more and more nervous since they entered the Nether about what might happen when he and the other man finally encountered one another again. They’d made amends on Geoff’s deathbed, yes, but that had been heightened by the stress of the situation, the grief… who was to say that Geoff hadn’t had time to think about it and decided he still hated him?

And it had been good. A relief, almost. They’d fit together the way he’d always dared to fantasise they might. It had felt _right_ , just like how finally being with Jack had felt right. In an instant he’d felt the distance that had built up between them, a product of the games, the Wild, and then the Nether, melt away. He’d remembered that close familiarity they used to have; how easily Geoff would sling an arm around him or ruffle his hair back in the Plains, what the embrace of his strong arms felt like. How it felt to be _loved_ by him.

He should be fucking happy.

Instead, the constant dread in his stomach that’d been there since last night still remained. A lingering fear that he shouldn’t let himself be happy because it might yet all be taken from him, by people who didn’t think he deserved it. In fact, it was even worse now that he’d been given the slightest taste of what he _might_ have. Could’ve had, if he was somebody else, somebody deemed worthy.

Everything seemed precarious, that was perhaps the best way of putting it, and he was too scared to enjoy even these small victories. 

They trailed across the Nether now, headed for the city. Geoff knew which direction to approach from to put them in the least danger of being spotted. He led the way - Jack pressed close by his side, the two of them whispering excitedly to each other.

_Catching up,_ Gavin thought. They laughed now and then. It was nice to see Jack smiling so much. When Gavin had come to visit him in the Plains, the other man had been happy, of course, to see him - but a heaviness had hung over him, like a dark cloud, a lingering grief.

Now it was as though that weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He couldn’t stop grinning, and neither could Geoff.

_You could be there with him_. Slip up by their side and into the conversation as easily as he once had. If he let himself, he could.

Instead, he trailed along at the back of the group, flanked by his mobs. Aside from Geoff and Jack, the others walked in a straggling line, a little space between them. Gavin didn’t mind - there was no need to talk until they reached the city, and he knew Ray was just worried about Michael - he trudged along with his head down, probably checking on the other man every few moments through the bond.

Gavin was worried about him too. And Ryan. But there was nothing to do except focus on getting to the city.

The previous Wild king was wandering along in front of him, kicking a rock along the ground as they went. Gavin wanted to talk to him later - he had some questions that he thought the other man might be able to help him with. But not right now. He would prefer to be left alone for a little bit, just to try and process everything that was going on.

So when Tamora Haywood fell back to walk next to him, he looked up with a frown - surprised, and a little annoyed.

Ryan’s mother looked disconcertingly similar to her son. That was obvious, Gavin supposed. They were related after all. But he’d heard enough about the woman to despise her already. Now, she was staring at him like he was a particularly interesting insect that she wanted to nail down to a board and examine.

“Can I help you with something?” Gavin snapped, adopting the same haughtiness he’d had when he first took the crown. It was easier when you genuinely didn’t give a shit what the other person thought of you.

Tamora didn’t answer right away. Just continued to stare at him as they walked, in a long, intense silence that made Gavin’s shoulders stiffen. Finally, she gave a little scoff.

“So you are the one who defied the games and took the crown for yourself,” she said. “Ambitious.”

“Apparently,” Gavin replied, stiffly. He wasn’t sure how she’d known - Geoff must’ve told her, and he wondered uncomfortably exactly how much she knew of the full story. Of what had happened between him and Ryan. Of all the rest of it.

She gave a thoughtful hum.

“The games were a stupid idea to begin with. Trust Ryan to come up with something ridiculous like that. A waste of time - and one that came back to bite him. Still.” She tilted her head, staring at him with glittering eyes. “Geoff left out the part of the story where he apparently wants to fuck you. Just told me you were a rogue from the Plains. Why the happy reunion with him just now?”

Gavin stiffened. He couldn’t even enjoy the memory of the kiss now, knowing Tamora had been watching with her beady eyes, and was now probing for some way to use it against him.

“We know each other from before,” he said, stiffly.

“Oh?” 

One eyebrow rose, eerily reminiscent to Ryan’s, and Gavin bit his lip. Every reminder of the others’ parents, whether they were good ones like Ray’s or bad ones like Ryan’s, only made him more acutely conscious of the fact that he _didn’t have any._ No knowledge of their mannerisms, their appearance. If he was similar to them at all. How different he might be now if he’d grown up knowing them.

“Why are you so interested?” he asked. He knew enough to know he didn’t trust her, and giving her anything she might somehow use against them was a bad idea.

“Well, it’s quite a story, isn’t it?” she replied. “Someone sweeping back in to rebuild the most dangerous kingdom in all the lands… not to mention, you’re the beginning of a new era for the Wild. Gods know that idiot-” she nodded at Weisheng, who was trudging obliviously along nearby - “Never did a damn thing with his power.”

Gavin stayed silent, but she seemed unfazed, continuing to stare at him even as he looked down at the ground.

“What drew you to the crown?” she continued.

Gavin ignored her, but her low voice continued in his ear, eerily reminiscent to the way he heard Midas’ voice in his dreams.

“Power?” she breathed. “Riches? There are plenty in the Wild. Or did you just want your own kingdom, your own subjects - something to _rule_ over?”

“This may surprise you,” Gavin snapped, “But not all of us do things just for our own benefit.”

Technically he’d only wanted to find his parents, but Tamora didn’t need to know about that. She was silent for a moment, then gave a harsh laugh. When Gavin looked up at her, her face was twisted into an ugly, tight smile.

“Supposedly,” she said, “Ryan has refurbished my entire kingdom.”

“It’s not _yours_ any more,” Gavin said. He couldn’t help the annoyance that leaked into his voice - he’d seen, in the Stoneworld, exactly how much the kingdom had improved under Ryan’s rule. He’d also seen how Tamora’s appointed counsellors, still hanging around the court because Ryan couldn’t get rid of them yet, resisted the changes.

“Right,” Tamora said. “Because he murdered me. The things we do for crowns, hm? I suppose you killed for yours, too.”

“Only the beast,” Gavin snapped.

“Still. An inheritance born of blood and pain is none to be proud of.”

“Yeah,” Gavin snorted, “You’d know.” 

That seemed to take her aback; she stared at him for a moment before, to his surprise, beginning to laugh. 

“Feisty,” she said. “I like that.” In a second, she darkened, hard eyes staring intently at him again. “But you see, Gavin, the thing is - you must have been from Geoff’s court, if he knew you beforehand. And I know he’s always been close to those he shouldn’t be.” Her eyes drifted ahead, to where Geoff and Jack held hands, still whispering together. “His advisor, for one.”

Gavin wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but when her eyes turned to him a moment later, there was something so ruthless and calculating in them that it sent a shiver down his spine.

“You do not talk like a king,” she said, almost accusingly. “You have the accent of someone from the Plains’ outer rim. And you speak like a commoner - _worse_ than a commoner, even. Someone from outside the cities.” 

Her finger reached up and touched his cheek suddenly, tracing roughly over the scars on his face - he flinched away from her touch. It was icy cold, her fingers calloused from work in the mines.

“How does someone like _you_ end up taking the crown?” she demanded.

Gavin smacked her arm away, gritting his teeth. The reminder of his common status stung, especially given his recent anxieties. 

“Trickery and treachery,” she continued, softly. “That’s what I think.”

Gavin couldn’t help it; as much as he tried to stay stone-faced, he knew his guilt must show. He had spent a long time refusing to feel bad for what had gone on during the games, but he’d tricked Michael. He’d misled Ryan. He’d hurt Geoff and Jack. Despite how things had turned out, despite his pride in his own achievements - that still bothered him sometimes, and he could tell from Tamora’s slow, sly smile that she noticed.

“Oh,” she breathed. “I see. Geoff told me the most part of it - how you defied everyone’s expectations, fooled every kingdom to swoop in for your own victory. How could you get that far without being _close_ to them all? So you turned on the people who love you, hm?”  
  
“I don’t regret what I did,” Gavin said, stiffly.

“Your face tells me otherwise,” she sneered.

“Someone like you could never understand.” He turned away, walking faster, but she kept pace with him easily.

“Someone like _me_?” she hissed. There was a genuine, aggressive annoyance in her voice. “I know betrayal. I know how it _feels_.”

“You betrayed your entire kingdom with the things that you did!”

“And you didn’t?” Her cold words stopped him in his tracks. “Boy from the Plains, who robbed his own kingdom to take the crown for himself-”

“What makes you think I’m from the Plains?” Gavin asked, stiffly.

She stilled, and then let out a slow breath.

“Oh, that’s right, isn’t it, witch? So all you were doing was returning home. There’s something very _base_ in that, isn’t there? Creature of the Wild. I can’t imagine what everyone in the kingdoms must think of all this.”

She’d touched on one of his sorest spots, and Gavin lowered his head so she wouldn’t see his face twist.

“I was just telling Geoff last night,” Tamora continued, “I wouldn’t be surprised if the people rose up against Ryan. He is not cut out to lead. So I would not get too comfortable on your new throne because somehow, I doubt you are either, witch.”

“Don’t call me that!” Gavin hissed, so viciously that Weisheng, walking nearby, turned in surprise to look at him.

Tamora didn’t flinch.

“I’ll call you whatever I like,” she said, coldly, and leaned towards him. “What will you do about it? Kill me?” A scornful laugh. “Here is a lesson for you, Wild king - you can’t stop people talking. They always will. They won’t say things you like. What’s dangerous is when their talk turns into action - and with kings and queens it so often does. Make sure you’re not in over your head, or you might find yourself drowning. However much you think you have, it can always get taken away.”

“Everything I have,” Gavin shot back, his voice tight and trembling, “I _built_. So did Ryan!”

“Building it is not enough,” she replied, and clapped one fist to her chest. “I built a wall and a kingdom and look where I’ve fucking found myself! Wasting away here for years, betrayed by my own _son_ \- no, you can’t just _build._ You have to _protect_ what you have - by any means necessary. Because people who don’t understand what you are, what you’re trying to do? They will try to be your downfall. Do not underestimate the stupidity of the common masses, Gavin. So you took your crown. You built your kingdom. If you’re not in control, you can lose everything!”

There was genuine, raw pain in her voice. Even if Gavin disliked her, even if he hated what she’d done to Ryan, to her kingdom - he could still see the truth in what had happened to her. In how easily someone could take away everything you had worked for.

How easily someone could take all that _he_ had.

_Haven’t we earned our freedom?_ Midas whispered, in the back of his mind.

_Your kingdom of gold, Midas… the richest man in the world, the most powerful gift, and still they managed to cast you away. You were a wicked man - so was Tamora - but just because I believe I am good doesn’t mean everyone sees it that way. There are people who hate me. There are people who have tried to kill me. There are people who would take everything I have because they don’t feel I deserve it._

_And yet I want more._

_I want the others. I want unity. I want to be part of this circle. These people would prevent that. They can’t see how_ good _it would be._

He felt even more unsettled than before, and he took a moment to wrestle his face into a cold, hard expression before looking back at Tamora.

“Generous of you to share your advice,” he said, drily.

Her lips twitched.

“You bested Ramsey to the crown. That amuses me.” She leaned in again, face hardening. “But otherwise, I am not impressed by what I see here.” She gestured vaguely all over him, and despite his attempts not to care, Gavin couldn’t help feeling self conscious. “You act very tough, _witch,_ but I have seen enough scared children to recognise one.”

Gavin stared at her, aghast.

“Gav!” Ray called back to him suddenly - he had stopped walking and turned to look at them, eyes soft and concerned. Gavin realised that he and Tamora had fallen behind.

“ _Gav?”_ Tamora demanded. She looked at Gavin, then at Ray - then at the other two walking up ahead. Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going on between all of you?”

“Nothing that concerns you,” Gavin began, only to be distracted when Ray walked back towards them.

“Gavin. Come on,” he said, taking Gavin’s wrist and pulling him away from Tamora. The Stone queen just laughed behind them, and didn’t bother following.

Ray leaned in close once they were a safe enough distance away.

“What was she saying to you?” he whispered.

“Nothing,” Gavin replied, feeling a bit stunned.

“Whatever it was, don’t listen to it.” Ray’s eyes were hard. “She said some fucked up things to me before as well.”

“She… she had some good points, actually,” Gavin began, before he was even sure what he was saying.

“What? What’s that mean?”

Gavin shook himself. He felt a bit like he was waking from a dream suddenly, Ray’s tight grip in his wrist grounding him.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. 

Ray frowned suspiciously, but after a moment he glanced over his shoulder at Tamora and just scowled.

“Why is she even coming with us?” he asked. “She could go look for the door on her own.”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Gavin replied, and sighed. “It’ll be fine. She has no body to go back to. She’s stuck here, whether she likes it or not.”  
  
“Yeah,” Ray murmured, but he seemed unsettled too, now. Still, after a moment he shifted his grip to hold Gavin’s hand instead. That was nice, and he tried to ignore the others’ curious stares. They had bigger things to worry about right now.

 

* * *

 

There was no sign of the Overlord - or anything else at all - as they continued to travel further through the red landscape. Eventually, after a couple of hours, they stopped to drink some water. Those of them who had human bodies were starting to grow tired and overheat.

Gavin took his scarf off as they paused to rest in the shade of a cliff, and tied it around his waist as a sash. It was too warm to keep it around his neck. He’d sent his Endermen out scouting closer to the city, and he reached out to check its memories.

Shadowy guards patrolling the city, but otherwise everyone was in the mines. No sign of the Overlord, but he seemed to already have brought Michael and Ryan within the walls. Gavin wasn’t sure where in the city they were.

When he opened his eyes, he turned and jumped a little. Geoff had come up right next to him, and he laughed at how Gavin startled, reaching out to put a steadying hand on his arm.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Gavin replied, with a small smile. Despite all his stress and his uncertainty, it was still just _good_ to see Geoff again, in front of him - to see his blue eyes and hear that familiar chuckle. That made something feel warm in his chest, comforted. Like everything could be okay, if only it was just _them_. “How long will it take us to get to the city, do you know?”

“Not long now. There are caves nearby that we can stop at to plan our next move,” Geoff said. “Actually, we already had a plan to escape previously that we could just re-use. Have you seen any of the Nether creatures since you arrived? There are some flying beasts - the Overlord calls them Ghasts.”

“Oh! We saw them earlier, near one of the cliffs,” Gavin said. “They were so _cute!_ ”

“Yeah, well, they’re pretty fucking deadly. They spit fireballs big enough to destroy a building.” Geoff gave a wicked grin. “We were gonna bring them to the city to create a distraction. Now we could use them as a cover while we rescue the others.”

“Sounds good!” 

They smiled at each other for a moment. A silence fell, in which Gavin noticed that Jack and Ray were talking quietly nearby, sharing food and water from their bag of supplies. Weisheng was with them, although he looked a bit awkward. Tamora was off on her own, gazing towards the city impatiently.

“So,” Geoff said then, breaking the silence. He sat down on a nearby boulder and patted the rock next to him. Gavin sat down, a bit uncertain - but Geoff just looked at him with a smile. “I caught up with Jack, but how are you, Gav? Six months is a long fucking time.”

“I missed you,” Gavin said - Geoff’s smile turned sadder, but after a moment Gavin looked away with a shrug. “I was okay, I guess.”

“You look…” Geoff trailed off, and Gavin glanced back at him, unsure what Geoff could see in his face. It seemed to take the other man a while to figure out what to say.

“You look like you’ve learned more about the world,” Geoff settled on, finally.

Gavin stared at him.

“Not always good things,” he whispered, finally.

Geoff bit his lip, then reached out and rested one hand on Gavin’s knee. It was strange; Gavin could feel him like he was a physical presence, but his hand was oddly cool considering how hot their surroundings were.

“What happened before I died,” Geoff began - he must’ve felt Gavin stiffen, because he squeezed his leg reassuringly. “I meant what I said before, Gav. During my time in here, I thought a lot about it, and I regretted a fucking lot of it. I wanted to apologise again - at a time when I’m not dying - I said it because I meant it. I’m sorry. You’re a good king, and I was an ass during the games. You deserve that crown more than I ever did.”

“It was over a year ago by now,” Gavin replied, softly. The words warmed him, but they weren’t a surprise any more. He didn’t doubt they were true. “I’m over it, I really am. Thank you though. I’m sorry, too.”

“Good.” Geoff’s hand slid to cover his, their fingers lacing together. “You’re important to me. As important as Jack is.”

Gavin smiled, but as much as the words filled some empty space within him, he couldn’t help but feel more dread building up as well. Gods, he’d wanted to - _needed to_ \- hear them, for so long now. But his emotions were mixed - he was afraid to let himself get close.

“So what have you been up to this whole time?” Geoff continued.  
  
“Travelling between the kingdoms,” Gavin replied, and tried to push the worries from his mind, focusing instead on the joy of just being here with Geoff. Touching him. _Talking_ to him. He’d waited so long for this that it felt like a dream. “Did Jack tell you how we made the door? I was the only one who could really leave my kingdom for long stretches of time, so I’ve been all over the place helping find the Netherrack. It was exhausting - but it was nice travelling, too. I didn’t know a lot about the other kingdoms so finally getting to visit the Alps and the Desert was great.”

“You spent time with the others too, then?” Geoff prompted. “Jack told me he’d been speaking to Michael a lot, but otherwise he pretty much stayed in the Plains.”

“Yeah, I was lucky that way.” Gavin gave a small smile. “Ryan and I spent a lot of time together at the start, working on the doorway.”

“Oh yeah?” Geoff asked, one eyebrow rising.

“Yeah,” Gavin said, and felt his cheeks heat.

“You two together, then?” Geoff asked, and Gavin stared at him, aghast at the sudden, no-nonsense question. But there was nothing but a mild curiosity in Geoff’s eyes - no anger, no jealousy. “I asked Jack that, too. He said you hadn’t told him yet, but he knows you spent a lot of time together.”

“We’re something,” Gavin told him. It was all still a bit unsure. “But we were waiting, too.”

“For me?”

“Of course! It wouldn’t be complete without you.”

“Really?” Geoff sounded a bit dubious, and Gavin felt a pang as he wondered if Geoff had ever come close to giving up. If he’d doubted they’d come, or assumed they’d moved on without him. “It is complete. Five crowns. Five kings.” 

He shrugged, but Gavin was already shaking his head.

“The soulbond isn’t the relationship,” he said, firmly, remembering Michael’s words.

Geoff’s lips twitched.

“You got wiser, too,” he said, something gently teasing in his tone, and Gavin sighed, feeling very tired suddenly.

“I don’t feel very wise,” he muttered.

He looked away, but a moment later Geoff’s hand was on his cheek, turning his face back towards him. His eyes were soft and kind, just like they used to be before all this - before the games and the Wild and their falling out. The sort of look he got when the joking ended and he was looking at Jack or Gavin with no walls up.

“Hey,” he said, quietly. “I was impressed, you know? By your confidence after you took the crown. Annoyed as fuck, yeah, but still impressed. But right now, you seem… unsure of yourself. Trust me, I can tell,” he added, when Gavin opened his mouth to protest. “You notice things, after spending so long away. But don’t be, Gavin. Don’t be. How many people do you think could’ve gotten all the way to the Nether? Could’ve gone from a pickpocket to a king? Not fucking many.”

Gavin leaned into his touch, closing his eyes as Geoff’s thumb stroked gently over his cheek.

“I want this,” he breathed.

“You can have it,” Geoff replied, gently, happily. Gavin opened his eyes and found the other man’s face quite close, his smile warm.

Gavin bit his lip. He wanted nothing more than to close the distance between himself and Geoff - but with great effort, he forced himself to turn away.

“I can’t,” he whispered. It was hard to get the words out. “Not yet. It’s… dangerous.” 

“What do you mean?” Geoff asked, frowning.

“It’s bigger than just us. As much as I wish we could all just… just be together, just _do_ this… It’s bigger than us,” Gavin repeated, frustrated. “A king has responsibilities. I learned that well during my time in the Wild. I learned that from _you_ , during the games. I was angry at first. I didn’t understand. But in a lot of ways, you were right. We can’t just do whatever we want.”

Geoff was silent for a moment, taking this in. His hand was on Gavin’s shoulder now. After a moment, he tugged Gavin to face him again.

“Jack told me someone said some shit to you in the Plains,” he said, slowly, “About how you’re not good enough to be King. Not good enough for _him_. Don’t believe that shit, Gavin. That’s all it is. Shit from a guy who I’m going to probably banish from the kingdom as soon as we get back.”

He was clearly joking, but Gavin couldn’t bring himself to so much as smile.

“Even if _I_ don’t believe it,” he said, quietly, “Others do. Words can turn into actions. Someone tried to kill me in the Stoneworld.” 

He lifted his shirt and Geoff hissed at the sight of the scar slashed across his ribs.

“It looks worse than it is,” Gavin said, with a grim smile. “It wasn’t a deep wound. The others didn’t even feel it in the bond. Ryan dealt with the guy who did it. But it won’t be the last time.”  
  
“Assassination is a danger for any political figure-”

“Even more so if people don’t like _this_.” He gestured between the two of them, and Jack and Ray crouched nearby. “These are big changes we’re making. Changes to the way things have been for bloody _centuries_ , Geoff.”

“We’ll deal with it,” Geoff replied, fiercely, catching his hands. “All of us together. We’re all experienced in our own ways. I’ve been King a long time - Jack’s been in court, he knows how it works. Ray and Michael know their own people. Ryan’s popular among his citizens, if not his council. _We will deal with it_. If _this_ is better? It will be better for everybody.” 

Gavin bit his lip, still unsure, but after a moment Geoff shook his hands and leaned in close.

“But as long as you want this?” he urged. “I’m not letting anything get in the way of us being together. Not even death.”

The determination in his voice, in his face, made something warm rise up in Gavin’s chest. Geoff held his gaze for a long moment.

“I love you, Gav,” he said, and something snapped in Gavin; he broke past the fear and let himself lean in and kiss Geoff, slowly, thoroughly - relishing the other man’s tight, grounding grip on his shoulders, as his own hands came up to rest against Geoff’s chest. The other man might just be a spirit, but Gavin could still feel a pounding heartbeat in his breast, beating against the palm of his hand, reminding him that they hadn’t been too late. That the other man was still here. Could still come back.

When they pulled apart he couldn’t help but notice Tamora was watching them now. She was too far away for him to make out her expression. But he was distracted, a moment later, when Jack came up by their side and reached out to brush Gavin’s cheek as well, smiling contentedly as he looked between the two of them.

Gavin felt better. Uneasy, but better.

“I trust you both,” he said, looking up at the two of them. It was true, it felt _right_ to say it. He saw Ray watching them, too, from a little closer, and smiled as he met the other man’s eyes, amending, “I trust you _all_.”

“Good.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder with a smile before looking around at the others. “Let’s get going, then. It’s not far to the city and we shouldn’t waste any more time.”

 

* * *

 

Michael looked around as they entered the city. Compared to the emptiness of the barren plains outside, the place was a bustling hub of activity. The stone buildings stood so close together that there wasn’t much room on the streets, and citizens scurried out of the way as they trooped down the main road.

The Overlord had materialised some time ago and now led the way, bellowing for people to get out of his path and sporadically cracking his whip. His creatures still held Michael and Ryan in a tight grip, frog-marching them along after him.

Michael took in a whirlwind of various species watching them as they passed. They all had a funny quality to them - they didn’t look like zombies, or even like ghosts, but he could clearly tell they were spirits rather than living creatures. Some looked more worn away than others, but all of them had a funniness about them, like they weren’t quite _there_.

There weren’t many humans, and those who he did see in the crowds were speaking to one another in a language he couldn’t understand. He frantically scanned their faces as they passed by, looking for Geoff - but found nothing.

“Do you see the others anywhere?” he hissed to Ryan, who stumbled alongside him.

The other man looked up. He seemed a bit shellshocked - had been walking in a daze since the Overlord’s rather unhappy little revelation that his mother was back. Michael wasn’t surprised. That was some fucked up shit, if you asked him. He’d be freaking out if _his_ parents showed up again - if that grief was dredged back up again after so long.

For Ryan it must be even worse, given how Michael knew things had ended with his mother. That wasn’t a reunion he was looking forward to; he didn’t like seeing the other man upset, and even now his clear _fear_ unsettled Michael, made something hot and defensive rise up in his chest.

“I don’t see them,” Ryan replied, after looking around. After a moment he took a deep breath and seemed to shake himself, his face turning steely and hard, the way it had been too often back when Michael first met him.  


“You okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” Ryan replied, voice flat.

Michael bit his lip - but there was nothing he could do except continue to walk along. He felt weak and sore after his fight with the Overlord, but he was already healing, his strength returning slowly. It was little use when they were so outnumbered. The Overlord had confiscated his sword, and now dragged it carelessly along the ground behind him as he walked.

“We have some _guests_ with us!” he roared to the crowds they passed through. Michael had no idea where they were being taken, but how gleeful the demon sounded didn’t bode very well. “And they are very different to our usual new souls! They’re still alive and came here voluntarily! _Ha!_ Can you imagine that? This is the most fun I’ve had in centuries! Come on, everybody! Come and see the Kings of Earth!”

Michael wasn’t quite sure how they were going to get out of this. The Overlord was so powerful - but he could feel Ray nudging at his mind, concerned, and even if he was too distracted to send anything back, the others would have realised what was going on by now. They’d come and get them - or he and Ryan would take the first chance that presented itself to escape.

The main road took a sudden, sharp turn into a crossroads. One road led down towards a dark opening in the ground that Michael presumed was some underground space - the other into a makeshift town square; a courtyard surrounded by what seemed to be several storage sheds containing mining equipment. They were marched to the front of the empty space and forced to their knees.

The crowds massed up to look at them. Most seemed sympathetic; heads lowered, staring at them with wide eyes. _So many creatures_ , Michael couldn’t help but think, gazing over the mostly non-human forms.

_So many different worlds._

The danger could be immeasurable, if there were so many different places out there which could potentially be reached through portals. Especially since they had no idea what sorts of powers or abilities might usually be held by these creatures of magic.

The Overlord strode up and stood between Michael and Ryan. He was so massive that Michael could only really see up to his waist. He would be hard to kill - although, Michael noted, he wore no armour, had only flaming bare flesh. If Michael could only get his sword back, well, that dick was looking pretty fucking unprotected.

“Well then,” the Overlord declared, clapping his hands merrily together. “I think it’s only fair that we have a little reunion! After all, I doubt you two returned here just for the fun of it. You’re probably looking for your dear _mummy_ , aren’t you?”

He stooped to mockingly brush a hand against Ryan’s cheek, and Michael bristled. Ryan’s jaw was clenched tight, staring up at the Overlord defiantly, but Michael wanted to lunge forward and cut the creature’s arm right off. The tight hands on his shoulders held him in place, though, and all he could do was watch angrily.

“Or maybe,” the Overlord continued, “It’s King Ramsey you’re here for. Come on then! Step forward!”

He turned to the crowd and waited expectantly. Michael caught his breath - thinking he was about to see Geoff again, despite the less than ideal circumstances, was still _exciting._

But there was nothing but silence from the crowds. No one stirred, not even to look around, and Michael saw the Overlord stiffen, craning his neck to stare around.

_What the fuck?_ Michael thought.

The others were clearly still in the Nether, or the Overlord wouldn’t be trying to make them come out. He still couldn’t feel Geoff in the soulbond, and he couldn’t see him in the crowds.

“Well?” the Overlord demanded, when the silence continued. He sounded irritated by now, clearly possessing a rather short temper. “Come out, or I’ll only make it worse for your friends! Mortal bodies are fragile. They can join you here permanently!”

He slammed Michael’s diamond sword against the ground. The loud _crash_ made half the crowd jump and flinch, but still no one stepped up.

“Where _are they?”_ the Overlord yelled. “Come forward, _now_!”

Michael glanced over at Ryan, who stared back at him, looking just as confused. The crowd began to mutter, heads twisting to look around at one another, but there was no sign of Geoff or anyone else. After a moment the Overlord furiously cut a hand through the air, gesturing to his creatures.

“Find them!” he barked.

He himself flew into the air as the shadowy creatures stepped forward and began searching the crowds. Michael braced himself, waiting for Geoff to jump out from somewhere - maybe this was some sort of plan? - but there was nothing save a nervous silence, the crowd of souls standing limply as the guards jostled them around, hunting for the others.

For a good ten minutes they searched. When the Overlord finally landed back on the ground, his face was even redder with anger. He’d sent guards to check the houses, and when they returned alone, he let out a hissing breath, literal steam rising from his nostrils.

“They’re gone?” he spat. “Queen Haywood too? And the Wild king? Well! Well, well, _well!_ It seems like they’ve taken the chance to escape. I should’ve fucking known after they stole my magic crystals - well, they can’t have got far! Get out of the city and search for them!”

He flung an arm towards the gate and the black figures streamed out of the city like a dark swarm of locusts. Michael’s stomach twisted - he hadn’t expected that Geoff would make his own escape, but apparently their capture had now made the Overlord aware of it. He wondered where Geoff was going - he must know they were here by now, surely.

“As for you…” the Overlord turned back to the two of them, and his face twisted into an ugly grin. “It seems like your reunion will have to wait. The others have had the clever idea to try and slip out on me. Well, I’ll find them - and I’ll find the other kings, too. In the meantime, the one thing I hate more than anything is a lack of productivity. Since you’re so _eager_ to come to my kingdom before your time, I think it’s only hospitable of me to give you a taste of what it’s like here. You can do some work for me.”

Michael glanced down the other path, towards the mines - but the Overlord shook his head and began to laugh.

“Oh, not in the mines.” He leaned in close, his breath nearly scorching hot against Michael’s face. “In the furnace.”

The glint in his eyes was worrying and Michael exchanged another glance with Ryan, but there was no time to do anything before they were being hauled to their feet and dragged away once more.

 

* * *

 

He led them deeper and deeper into another dark pit in the ground - a tunnel so tight that Michael’s hackles rose with every step they took. Even he was forced to stoop low; he wasn’t sure how the giant Overlord could even fit - like a worm burrowing down into the ground.

It was completely dark, and only the tight grip of the guards on his arms kept him steady as they stumbled down. The air was so warm he could hardly breathe. Presently he began to hear a mechanical sort of roar, and the rhythmic chugging of some sort of machine. The scrape of shovels and the clanging metal of doors slamming.

The occasional, piercing scream echoed through the small space, which was... unfortunate. Finally, the tunnel opened out into a wider space - dimly lit by small torches in each corner. There were several dark doorways leading out, from which came the occasional puffs of steam.

“Here in the Nether,” the Overlord declared, as he selected one door and began to march towards it, “We don’t have the same type of magic as in your world. All the magic here is crystallised - but like redstone, it can be put to use. And all of it, every piece, belongs to me. I use it for a number of things, but it has to be processed first.”

They passed through a passageway with windows on either side. From each gusted hot air that stung Michael’s eyes and made him feel like he was being sunburnt. He could see various red glows coming from some sort of machinery in each room, and the dark shapes of souls moving in front of them.

“That’s what the furnaces are for,” the Overlord continued. “The raw crystals go in, and processed crystals come out. Unfortunately, the magic can be… volatile. So people don’t like working in here.”

As they watched, one of the furnaces sparked before bursting into flames. More horrible screams rang out as one of the souls seemed to catch alight, staggering around as they burned. The others rushed to pat the flames out. Michael swallowed, uneasy at the sight.

“It’s painful enough for souls without a physical body,” the Overlord said, and chuckled. “You two might be in a bit more danger. But hey!” he reached out and nudged Michael with his elbow, so roughly that he stumbled. “With your super strength, you can work very hard for me, yes?”

They reached the edge of the passage. He flung open a door and a searing wave of heat emerged that made Michael and Ryan both flinch back, instantly sweating.

“For now, you shovel magic into this furnace for me. You’ll need coal in the other section.” He ushered them into a tiny, cramped cell. The furnace was built into one wall. Two doors covered in metal grates glowed red. Stacked against the other wall were large barrels; one contained black crystals, the other coal.

The guards released Michael. The Overlord thrust a shovel into his hands and immediately Michael swung it towards him, aiming to hit him across the face in one swift, brutal movement-

But the Overlord caught it as easily as one might catch a fly. He wrenched the shovel from Michael’s hand and then backhanded him so hard he sent him flying into the nearest wall. Michael’s head struck the hard stone; he saw stars for a moment, groaning as he fell to the ground.

“Michael!” he heard Ryan shout.

“Don’t you try anything, or you’re next, Haywood,” the Overlord warned. Michael sat up, dazed and rubbing his head. His fingers came away bloody, but he struggled to his feet. The Overlord was staring down at him impassively, holding out the shovel. He took it with a sneer and the Overlord reached out and lit the furnace with one flaming finger. The heat was terrible, nearly overwhelming.

“Get started,” he ordered. “But don’t expect me to leave you free in here, oh no.”

He reached into the shadows near the wall and produced a set of shackles. The guards took the chains and moved to fasten them around Michael’s wrists and ankles, Ryan getting the same treatment. They were just long enough for them to reach the furnace, on the opposite wall to the door. That wasn’t saying much, considering the room was tiny, and Michael bared his teeth, furious at being tied down, but unable to do anything about it.

“I want this all shovelled by the time I return,” the Overlord warned. “Or you’ll get a taste of the whip again!”

He strode out, slamming the door behind him. The room was stagnant and so warm that Michael felt sick and dehydrated already, and the metal shackles were already beginning to get so hot they burned.

As soon as they were left alone, Michael tested the chains, tugging at them. Despite his strength, they held fast, and he spun around, searching desperately for some way out. There wasn’t so much as a window.

“The walls are stone!” he said. “Your gift...”

Ryan walked to the wall and pressed a hand to it, but shook his head after a moment.

“The chains are metal and bolted to more metal inside the wall,” he said. “It won’t work.”

Still - he sent some of the rocks glowing red, and that at least provided more light. They stared at each other, hopelessly. There were bleeding scratches across Ryan’s face from their fight with the Overlord earlier, and Michael imagined he himself wasn’t in much better shape.

“Should we work?” Michael asked, finally. The heat was exhausting him, and combined with the feeling of being trapped in such a small space, he was feeling too shaky to resist much more at the moment.

“That might be wise,” Ryan replied, and sighed, reaching to rub his hands over his face. “The others will come. If Geoff escaped, he might be with them. They’ll be here for us.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed.

They started shovelling. He did the magic crystals, which were remarkably heavier than he’d expected, and Ryan shovelled the coal. Any time they stepped towards the furnace the blistering heat grew even more unbearable; he was already soaked in sweat and his skin felt sore and red.

“It fucking sucks to think this is where we’d go anyway when we die,” he panted finally, as they worked.

Ryan glanced over at him, and grimaced.

“It does seem unfair to many who did nothing deserving of it,” he said.

Michael nodded, but his mind wouldn’t leave the subject, wondering how many others had stood here before him, doing the same work.

“My parents must’ve come through here,” he realised. He saw the look on Ryan’s face and regretted bringing it up, but he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop thinking about it.

"That’s shitty to think about,” he continued, and pulled a face. “ _At peace_ \- people always fucking say that. _They’re at peace now_. But they weren’t. They were working here, everyone with magic was - why? Do we need to somehow run out of magic before we can pass on to a real afterlife?”

“Who knows?” Ryan replied, and grunted as he heaved another shovelful of coal into the furnace. “The way the world works is… not how we ever expected. We’ve all learned that recently.”

There was a glum silence broken only by the machine’s roar and the rhythmic sound of their shovels.

“Sorry,” Michael said, finally. “I shouldn’t talk about my parents when yours were so shit.”

Ryan gave a heavy sigh. For a moment he focused on his work, and Michael watched him - the sweat glistening on his brow, the red glow of his skin, the drawn lines around his mouth and eyes.

“I don’t know how I’ll react when I see her again,” he said, abruptly, not looking at Michael. “That’s what scares me. I never processed it. Just - bottled it up, I guess. But with Gavin, in the Stoneworld…” He trailed off and finally paused, leaning on his shovel as he looked up at Michael. In this light his eyes were dark, nearly black. “We talked about her more. But always as something in the past. Always something I wouldn’t have to face again.”

"You hate her,” Michael said, softly.

“Of course I do. She’s a murderer. She’s a - an evil, evil woman, and she’s everything I never wanted to be. I hate that her shadow still hangs over my kingdom. In my court. In how my people perceive me and my own ambitions.”

“People are starting to realise that you’re nothing like her,” Michael argued. “The people that matter, at least. Your citizens.”

“Still,” Ryan replied. “For a long time, she made me feel… weak, compared to her. Even now, sometimes, I wonder at everything I do. Wonder if I’m only doing things to defy what she’d expect - yet at the same time, her emphasis on control stuck with me, because I applied it to my own situations. The man who tried to assassinate me, before the dragon came?”

“I remember,” Michael said, quietly.

“I had him executed publicly before the court.” Ryan spat the words, glancing at Michael like he expected some sort of chastisement.

Michael just shrugged. Ray had told him this already, and he’d had the same reaction then.

“He deserved it,” he replied, simply. “I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt me, or Ray, or any of my friends.”

“My golems ripped him apart,” Ryan continued, as though trying to provoke a response.

“I see no problem with this.”

“You wouldn’t,” Ryan muttered. “Jack might.”

“I’m not Jack,” Michael said, firmly. “I think it’s fine. When someone picks up a sword, they need to prepare to have other people try to use them against them, too. You step into the arena, there’s no backing out. You fight. You die.”  
  
Ryan contemplated this for a moment, and Michael turned back to his own shovelling. When he looked over at Ryan again, he was staring down at the spade in his hands.

“Someone tried to kill Gavin,” he said, slowly.

“ _What_?” Michael demanded, straightening up.

Ryan lifted his head. His brows were furrowed, eyes dark.

“In the Stoneworld. My court despises him, so there was an assassination attempt. He’s fine,” he added, seeing Michael’s alarm. “He wasn’t badly injured. But I was… I was so, _so angry_. The person who did it, the assassin - a hired killer - and then the two people who paid him? I had them publicly hanged from the wall. It’s a punishment _she_ used to implement.”

Michael flapped a hand, angrily.

“They tried to hurt Gav,” he hissed. “I’d’ve killed them with my bare fucking hands.”

“You really think there is nothing wrong with this?” Ryan demanded.

“I don’t think so,” Michael argued. “You didn’t do it the same way _she_ did it. To inspire fear, as an unjust punishment - no, you did it to protect the people you love. And when you killed _her?_ It was to protect your people. Our family,” he said fiercely, and stepped towards Ryan, the chains clanking loudly in the small room, “Our friends, our _subjects_ \- control is important, yes, but it’s not about absolute control to keep you in power. It’s about enforcing the rules for everyone’s safety. And sometimes violence is how you do that.”

Ryan didn’t look like he quite agreed, but Michael held his gaze as he moved up, close enough that the tingle of magic rose between them.

“In the Alps, a softly-softly approach will get you nowhere,” he said, voice low. ”You have to be strong to be a leader.”

Ryan met his eyes for a long moment. Michael stared back, earnestly.

“And you are strong, Ryan. One of the strongest people I know.”

Ryan’s lips twitched a little. Michael reached out and clapped him on the arm before turning to shovel another lot of crystals. Ryan did too, throwing another great mound of coal into the furnace where it fell with a sizzle and a cloud of dark smoke. Michael watched him, chest swelling.

“Together we’ll protect everybody,” he urged. “Just like how you killed your mother for your _people_.”

Ryan nodded, shoulders heaving as he breathed heavily, skin slick from the sweltering heat of the furnace. Michael tilted his head, unsure what was going through the other man’s head.

“Would you do it again?” he asked - Ryan’s head snapped up, but Michael held his gaze steadily. “Think about it. Knowing how it turns out, knowing the gains and losses - would you kill her again?”

"Yes,” Ryan replied, instantly. “Without a doubt, I would.”

Michael nodded. The answer seemed to have given Ryan confidence - he nodded back, straightening up now, the doubts and fear gone from his eyes. He stepped towards Michael and for a moment they clasped each other’s arms.

“I know the Alps and the Stoneworld hated each other for a long time,” Ryan said. “But you are… you see things simply. I envy that sometimes. I overcomplicate matters. Get all philosophical about it.”

“I should think a lot deeper about some things, probably,” Michael admitted. “But this?” He touched his heart, gestured between them. “This and our crowns, our kingdoms - I know what I value, and I stick to that, and I’d fight, die, _kill_ for that.”

“So would I,” Ryan murmured.

“Then traditional animosity or not, I think we’d fit well together,” Michael said, with a crooked grin. He saw Ryan’s lips twitched in return. “And when you see your mother again? Don’t take any of her shit. Making your first kill is always hard, whether it’s your first hunt or your first human. Taking a life away, it’s no small matter. But when there’s a strong _belief_ behind it - when it’s something for the good of many - spilling blood is a sacrifice for a better cause. That’s how we see it in the Alps - that’s how we teach our young warriors. As long as it was for the right reasons - and not just _your_ right reasons, but the whole kingdom’s, and every group in it… don’t let regret cloud resolve, or it will only slow you down when you fight next time.”

Ryan nodded. He seemed far more determined now, and squeezed Michael’s shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Michael just smiled. He felt far closer to the other man now, somehow, and resolved to himself that if they ran into Queen Haywood he’d be the first there to back Ryan up. For now, they continued their work, biding their time, digging and shovelling in an easy rhythm.

 

* * *

 

“These magical leashes can harness the Ghast,” Geoff said, lifting one of the objects, from which came a pulse of strange magic - not quite like the magic of their world; something rawer, darker. “We’ll use it to bring them to the back of the city, and then let them loose to cause havoc. During the distraction, Ray will use his gift to get the rest of you over the wall.”

They all nodded, following along so far. They’d paused in a cave near the city where Geoff had told them they usually met to plan meetings. It was close enough that it was only a five minute run to the front gate.

Even from this distance, Gavin could tell that Geoff and the others’ absence had been noticed. The patrol of guards on the wall had doubled, and more of the dark, swarming creatures were searching the surrounding landscape. The cave was well hidden, but they couldn’t stay here long.

“Tamora and I will go to fetch them,” Geoff continued. “It will only take two of us. Jack, you find out where in the city they are using the Sight. When you see the trouble beginning, get inside - Weisheng will go with you because he’s familiar with the place. If something goes wrong, he can get you out.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Jack said.

They all looked at each other for a moment. Gavin glanced uncertainly over at Tamora. She had her arms folded, staring out at the red sky in the cavern’s entrance, a haughty profile with her chin lifted and brows furrowed.

Geoff followed his gaze, and sighed before clapping his hands together. Gods, Gavin had missed that - seeing him take control, put a plan into action, give one of his usual encouraging speeches.

This time, it was a brief one.

“Okay then,” he declared. “Let’s do this! Get them back, and then finally get the fuck out of here.”

Tamora strode wordlessly towards the entrance. Geoff rose and reached out, clasping Jack’s shoulders and leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the lips. Gavin watched them with a small smile.

“You got this,” Geoff said quietly, and Jack nodded.

“Can we trust her?” he asked, looking over at Tamora. Ray and Gavin, lingering nearby, exchanged a glance.

Geoff sighed.

“No,” he admitted, “But I’ll keep an eye on her. I’m still not sure how she’s planning to leave here without a body. Don’t worry, though. I’ve got this.”

He turned to Gavin and kissed him too, then, with an easiness that made Gavin smile. It still sent a thrill through him - felt at once familiar and so new, he’d been imagining it for so long. Geoff clapped him on the shoulder when they pulled apart, then turned and pressed Ray’s arm - he was lurking a bit awkwardly next to them.

“If you’re quite done?” Tamora called out impatiently from the entranceway. She was scowling at them, and Geoff rolled his eyes before heading out with her. They watched the two of them vanish back out into the Nether. A vague unease wormed in Gavin’s stomach. He didn’t like to see Geoff walking back into danger so soon after they’d just gotten him back - but he was reassured by the fact that as a soul, he couldn’t be killed in this world. Everyone had their role to play in the plan.

“Time to find the others, then,” Jack sighed. He sat down on a rock and Ray sat beside him, watching over his body as his head tilted back and his eyes cast over white with the Sight.

Gavin looked around and found Weisheng had moved to the entranceway. He was staring out after the others, and Gavin came up next to him.

“Hey,” he said.

Weisheng glanced up and gave a very awkward smile.

“Hey,” he replied.

“I figured we should talk - is something wrong?” Gavin asked, frowning. Weisheng seemed pensive - he kept glancing down at the small figures of Tamora and Geoff crossing the landscape below, and there was a worried furrow to his brow.

He looked at Gavin, and sighed, running his hands over his face.

“I don’t have a body to go back to either,” he explained. “I’m kinda fucking relying on Tamora to tell me what her plan is, but she hasn’t yet. I went along with all this shit because she convinced me there was a chance to return and, y’know, I’d prefer not to be dead. But I’m starting to think I’ve been strung along.”

“What about Geoff?”  
  
“He joined us later on. He’s lucky you all thought to preserve his body. Otherwise he’d be in the same boat. I’ll be pretty fucking annoyed if it turns out I’ve been sticking around here for no reason. It hasn’t exactly been fun.”

“Knowing Tamora, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was just using you.”

“The thought has crossed my mind.” Weisheng sighed and turned away, walking over instead to where Gavin’s surviving mobs were standing by the wall, waiting. He reached out and brushed a hand down one of the Endermen’s arms, a small smile twitching at his lips.

Gavin followed him, watching him curiously.

“Do you have something you’re trying to get back to?” he asked. “Or someone, maybe?”

“Nope,” Weisheng replied. “It’s more that I’m scared of what the actual afterlife might be. After how shitty this one was, I’m not exactly confident that I’ll finally get some sort of peace.”

“Fair enough.”

Weisheng moved to the draugr next, letting out a small chuckle.

“Miss having these guys to do all the work for me,” he murmured.

“What did you do as Wild king?” Gavin couldn’t help but ask. Since he had the only crown that wasn’t part of a family legacy, he’d always been curious about the others who held the same power as him.

“Not much. I had no desire to abuse the power. For the most part I let the mobs roam free and just used them to create a better campsite for myself. To hunt and keep guard and keep any threats away while I continued to explore the Wild. I think that’s what most of the less aggressive kings did. It was mostly just nice to not constantly be in danger.”

“And how did you die?”

“You know how I died,” Weisheng replied, frowning.

“The beast killed you,” Gavin agreed. “But did you know the beast itself came through a portal?”

Weisheng paused for a moment, seeming deep in thought. After a moment, his eyes widened.

“Wait,” he said. “In a pit deep in the ground I once found a portal with eyes all around it-”

“That’s the one!” Gavin cried, excitedly. The timeline for the End portal was still unclear in his head, and the fact that Weisheng knew about it was another step towards figuring out exactly what’d happened. “Did you open it?”

“Open it?”

“Like, was it an empty frame or was it all dark and swirly inside?”

“Oh, it was already open when I got there. Just happened to be exploring when I found the entrance. But yeah, it was already all dark and swirly.”

Gavin frowned. That was strange - if the portal had been open so long, how come Midas had never come through? And who had opened it in the first place?

“So you saw the beast coming out?”

“No,” Weisheng replied. “I was like, _what the fuck is this thing_ , and I was too chicken to go through so I just sent a couple of zombies in. They never returned, I figured it was just something weird that killed anything that went through it, and then I left. A few weeks later, there was a disturbance in the Wild, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Then when I was exploring in the ravine, the beast appeared and killed me.”

“So it didn’t come out straight away,” Gavin mused. 

“Apparently not.”

“And when you opened the portal, you… you didn’t hear a voice or anything like that?”

“A voice?” The look of confusion on Weisheng’s face told him all he needed to know. “No?”

Gavin hummed thoughtfully. There was a moment of silence as he tried to figure out what could’ve happened here. Someone between the original kings and now must’ve opened the portal up - but who, and why, and _when?_

“Do you know anything about the previous Wild rulers?” he asked, switching topics instead.

It was doubtful that Weisheng would know much about his parents and who they might’ve been. After all, he didn’t look like he was that much older than Gavin himself. But he shrugged.

“I mean, yeah, a bit. When I arrived in the Wild, there was another bandit in charge. An accused murderer, real brute of a guy, who’d fled the Alps and ended up here. He was using his mobs to hunt down other people in the Wild - either getting them to work for him, robbing anyone else who ventured in, or killing them if they refused. Just some random asshole - eventually I got sick of running with him so I killed him and took the crown. The other bandits had mostly scattered by then.”

Gavin nodded. The Wild, dangerous as it was, did have some human occupants - though they rarely lived long, and if they did it was in hiding. Gus had been there a while, he knew - living alone in a cave, uninvolved with the petty skirmishes and conflicts that took place between the Wild’s more violent occupants.

“About twenty five years ago there was a big war between some bandit groups,” he said. “Do you know anything about that?”

“Not first-hand,” Weisheng said. “My parents were traders who themselves were attacked by bandits while travelling through the Stoneworld. We escaped into the Wild and I lived there ever since. I was an adolescent at the time, and I was alone soon after. But when I joined another group I heard from some of the people who were descendents of that original band. Witches like you,” he added, nodding towards Gavin’s eyes. “Families from the Wild, born and raised there.”

“Did they say anything about a… a baby who was taken from the Wild?” Gavin asked.

Weisheng’s face softened as he seemed to put the pieces together and realise what he was getting at.

“There are only two leaders who reigned long enough for people to properly remember them,” he said. “The Queen, and the King who killed her.”

“I remember Ray telling me about them,” Gavin mused.

“The bandits have never been so big as they were during the reign of those two, mostly because they actually kept the mobs relatively under control, even if they were using them as weapons - first against the Stoneworld, then in the civil war that broke out within the Wild itself. The Queen had no children, as far as I know.”

“The King?”

“He was known for being friends with the witches. A lot of them fled the Wild soon after he died. That’s all I’ve got for you, sorry.”

Gavin nodded, slowly, descending into a thoughtful silence. His mind was whirling with possibilities, trying to envision what the Wild might’ve looked like in those days, swarming with bandit clans, mobs being used in warfare against humans… the rising up against the Bandit Queen.

_My parents were among them. I’m sure of it. But who were they?_

“You reckon you’re descended from one of them?” Weisheng asked after a moment, his eyes surprisingly kind.

“Might be,” Gavin said, and shook himself. “Or friends of theirs. Whatever happened there, for some reason I was taken from the Wild as a baby and left in the Plains. I’ve always wanted to know who they were. Why they left me.”

“It was a period of conflict. As I said - a lot of people left the Wild after the second King was killed. His successor didn’t keep control of the mobs. Was more interested in searching the temples for old booze and treasure. The Wild crown is an odd one,” he added, and something dark passed across his face. “It’s not like the others. There is no heritage there, no kingdom to maintain. Just blood and ruin.”

“Blood and ruin,” Gavin agreed, “But I’m building on it.” 

To his surprise, Weisheng snorted.

“Good luck with that,” he replied. “I’ve held the same power as you, Gavin. It’s… overwhelming, sometimes. Being tangled with the minds of monsters. There’s a darkness in the Wild - a darkness that’s hard to push back.”

“It’s just magic and memory,” Gavin argued. Bad things had happened there, yes, but he’d grown used to the kingdom, especially after he learned exactly what the cause of its downfall was.

Weisheng didn’t seem so sure.

“Magic itself is unnatural,” he argued, and stepped closer to Gavin, staring into his green eyes. “And you, then… what are you? Everything. Witch, thief, now king? The Wild might be in your blood if your parents were from here. But I don’t know that that’s necessarily a good thing. No judgment from me,” he added a bit awkwardly, “I’ve done my share of shit, but I’m just saying. It might not be a lineage to be proud of, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“I don’t need pride,” Gavin murmured. “I just need _answers_. I’m proud of my own achievements, but I’d still like to know who my parents were.”

Weisheng nodded. There was a stilted silence, and Gavin suddenly had a vision of the other man, fleeing from bandits into the dark jungle with his parents. How old had he been? Fifteen, sixteen, if that? His parents dying at some point. Joining a bandit crew. Eventually killing to take his own crown, then doing nothing with it.

It was a dismal reminder that everyone who’d held the crown before him had their own story. Their own ambitions. Had met their own grisly fate.

_And here you are. Making a grand effort to restore the Wild to its former glory. To go down in history, one of the kings to be remembered._

_You can do it. You’ve already begun. The others believe in you. The six of you, together._

_If only the world will let you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> justisaisfine has drawn some amazing fanart, thank you so much! they're beautiful omfg
> 
> [Gavin enters the Endermen's memories in Broken Heavens](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/155805015079/justisaisfine-gkingoffez-thank-you-sm-ive)
> 
> [Gavin and Ray from chapter 1](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/155702620079/justisaisfine-more-rayvin-from)
> 
> [The reunion with Geoff](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/155642752494/justisaisfine-whats-that-isa-back-at-it-with)


	7. Chapter 7

“Stop looking at me like you think I’ll turn on you any second now,” Tamora said, peevishly, after they’d been walking in silence for about twenty minutes across the barren red landscape. “What do you think I’m gonna do? Kill you?”

She broke into mocking laughter, and Geoff scowled.

“Well it’s reassuring that you brought that up,” he replied, sarcastically.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tamora snapped back. “I couldn’t care less about any of you. My only concern is getting out of here myself, and apparently saving your friends who were fool enough to get themselves captured is the only way you’ll show me where the door is.”

“And what exactly are you planning on doing after that?” Geoff asked.

She looked away, seeming reluctant to share any of her secrets, a little suspicious furrow to her brows. 

“What harm will telling me do?” Geoff prompted, annoyed. “You step through the door like the rest of us, then - what?”

For a moment he thought Tamora would ignore him. But when he continued to stare at her expectantly, she finally sighed and grudgingly spoke again.

“I never had the Sight,” she began. “So the magic in my soul, if you want to call it that, isn’t the right sort to sustain me as a ghost back in our world. My body being decomposed, I would die immediately if I returned to it.”

“So what are you planning to-”

“The Wild queen I met who escaped from here told me that when she stepped through the door she didn’t instantly wake up in her body,” Tamora continued. Geoff fell silent, interested - he hadn’t been sure what to expect the entire time they’d been planning their escape. “Instead, for an instant she rushed from the location of the door in our world - it’s in a temple deep in the Desert, I’m not surprised the other kings never found it and had to make their own, it was buried by a sandstorm centuries ago - and flew across the landscape back to the remains of her corpse. It all happened so fast she barely took it in - was mostly just conscious of being whisked back to her remains.”

“Your point being?”

“My point being that she wasn’t expecting it. I am. I intend to stop that flight and in the limited time I have as a ghost, take over the vacant body of somebody else.”

She said it as casually as if she was discussing what she’d have for dinner. Geoff stared at her for a moment, then registered what she’d said, and shook himself.

“Vacant body?” he demanded, shrilly.

“Yes,” Tamora replied. “Just like your body is an empty shell when you use the Sight, not every body has a soul in it. Those who are in comas, close to death, or even those who have recently passed away. I’ll inhabit the shell and take it over. The key challenge will be finding one close enough for me to get in quickly.”

Geoff stared at her, horrified.

“You’re going to _steal_ someone else’s body?” he demanded.

“Well, they’re hardly using it, are they?” Tamora replied.

“You can’t just do that, it’s not _yours_!” Even as the words left his mouth, he could see immediately in her face that she couldn’t care less. “And it doesn’t bother you that once you return you won’t be yourself any more?”

“No,” Tamora replied, coldly. “It doesn’t.”

“You’re assuming this even works. No one’s done it before.”

“What do I have to lose if it doesn’t?” she pointed out. “I’m already dead, aren’t I?”

Geoff contemplated this in silence. They were behind the city by now and had moved into the shadow of the huge cliff face that loomed above it. The Ghast usually floated just beyond here, he remembered.

“And you think Ryan will just let you take control of the kingdom again?” he asked finally, voice tight.

“What happens after I return is my concern,” she replied. Ominously. Geoff did not like this at all.

“We’ll stop you, if you try,” he warned. “We all will.”

Tamora tilted her head challengingly, but didn’t reply. They continued to walk in silence, glancing now and then towards the city. It was empty and silent save the occasional dark flicker of movement from the guards patrolling the wall.

“So you’re fucking both Jack and the witch,” Tamora said, abruptly. There was a dark note in her voice that Geoff didn’t like - he hadn’t missed the fact that she’d been talking to Gavin earlier, though he hadn’t had a chance to ask what that had been about.

“None of your damn business,” he spat, but so defensively that she must’ve known it was true.

“Quite the story, isn’t it?” she sneered. “King Ramsey and his two consorts. And now both of them are kings, too. Soon people might get the idea you’re just trying to take over the whole land. Create an unstoppable monarchy that you’re all part of. It’d be hard to criticise your leadership with the force of _five_ armies behind you, after all. Wouldn’t it?”

“Sounds like the sort of thing you’d do,” Geoff snapped.

She just shrugged, and Geoff scowled at her.

“I’m not,” he said. “Power has nothing to do with it. I love them. All of them.”

“ _Quaint_ ,” she said, and despite knowing he shouldn’t let her rile him up, he couldn’t help the hot anger that flared through his chest. _Stop talking, don’t give her anything to work with_ , he thought - but he couldn’t. 

“You got a fucking problem with it?” he demanded, rounding on her.

“I think it’s foolish to put yourself in a position where you have so much to lose,” she replied, casually. And then, “You think Jack will give up his rule so easily when you get back?”  
  
“I do, actually-”  
  
“You think Gavin won’t put his own kingdom, needs, desires, first?”  
  
“Just because you don’t fucking trust anyone doesn’t mean there aren’t good people in the world,” he shot back. “Maybe the reason you had to worry about people turning on you was because of _you_ , did you ever consider that?”

“I know how to keep myself safe,” she replied, something icy in her face, “I was suspicious of Ryan, but even then I wasn’t fast enough. Trust,” she spat, “My own _blood_ , and look where that got me!”

Geoff didn’t know what to say. But after a moment, a memory came to him, and he said, “Ryan told me about how you wanted us to marry so that he could murder me and take the Plains crown.”

Tamora began to laugh again. Clearly she had never forgotten _that_ incident.

“He refused,” she said, and snorted. “That was a test, you know.”

“Of what?”

“Of _him_.” Her anger was back, but it wasn’t hot, passionate anger like Geoff’s was. There was something cold about it, something detached, and it was all the more frightening for it. “After that, I knew he and I were not… seeing eye-to-eye.”

“Because he wouldn’t commit cold blooded murder?”

“Because he lacked loyalty,” she spat. “Because he clearly had no understanding of the history between your kingdom and mine, of the potential my plan held. He was weak and it showed.”

Geoff wasn’t about to waste his time trying to change her mind; she was clearly beyond helping and would not be moved.

“His people approve of him,” he replied stiffly. “That’s what matters.”  
  
“And what about in your kingdom?” she shot back. “Do _your_ people approve? What about the Alps, the Desert? You think everyone’s gonna suddenly be on board with whatever _unity_ it is you’re trying to build, here?”

Geoff bit his lip. It was true. Despite all Ryan had done, the Stoneworld’s reputation lingered, and not all of the general population had a positive opinion of his kingdom, let alone the man himself.

“You don’t know the history of the crowns,” he muttered. “Where they come from. Any of it.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, actually.” He drew himself up. “The kingdoms are meant to be united.”

“Good luck,” she snorted. “You think this will work, but it won’t. The six of you might be all for it, but the people won’t be. No matter what you try to create, someone with a different idea always comes along to knock it down.”

Geoff just turned away, frowning. _She’s just trying to get into your head. Ignore her._

“Did you know,” Tamora continued after a moment, “That my husband was murdered?”

His head snapped up. He hadn’t known that, but what was even more surprising was the almost hesitant note in Tamora’s voice. He’d never heard her sound anything other than confident, annoyed or scathing before.

“Bet Ryan doesn’t talk about his father much,” she continued, darkly.

“ _No one_ talks about him much,” Geoff replied. “I don’t know much about him, either, he died when I was so young as well.”

“He was the son of one of my tutors,” Tamora said. “His mother taught me geography and at times he’d sit in on the class as well. He wasn’t quite a nobleman, though they were a wealthy family and close to the court. It was actually almost scandalous at the time.” She gave a small huff. “And who said I was always a stickler for the rules?”

That was actually quite surprising. Geoff had never known that; by the time he was old enough to understand much more than the simple fact that his kingdom hated the Stoneworld, the elder Prince Haywood had been long laid to rest.

“Mining accident,” Tamora continued, and scoffed. “That’s what they called it. He was an engineer, and on an inspection in the mines one day, there was a ‘cave in.’ Mining accident,” she repeated, “It was _murder_. I couldn’t prove it, but I knew. Rebel groups were rising up at the time, people who hated my rule. They must have orchestrated it, probably planning to eliminate the next in line so they could kill me without worrying about him taking over. I cracked down on them after that. Ryan was six years old.”

There was still anger simmering in her voice, despite how long ago it had been. Geoff swallowed.

“That’s awful,” he replied, “But it really doesn’t excuse how much of an asshole you are. How many people you hurt and killed in your entire reign.”

“You’d side with the rebels,” Tamora said, derisively. “So would Ryan, apparently.”

“People wanting freedom from your oppression? Yes, I would,” Geoff replied. “Luckily, Ryan took over before their ambitions became too big. The fact that there isn’t a civilian uprising against him speaks volumes. Any problems are only from the people you left behind in the court. It means no one needs to get hurt in a useless conflict.”  
  
“Except me,” she pointed out, and scoffed again. “You’ll understand one day, when _your_ people turn against you.”

Geoff bit his lip. Despite his efforts to be a good leader, he couldn’t help but think about how things had already come close to that, with Mark Nutt’s attempt at a takeover. It was unfortunate that his death and all the drama it had entailed had happened so soon after quashing that threat. But Jack had told him that everything had settled down, and everything had been going well during his reign - right?

Before he had to reply, they’d rounded the cliff and paused to peer around it. The Ghast floated serenely above, the only feature in the otherwise flat red sky. They looked so peaceful, with their big, sleepy eyelids and their dangling legs trailing behind them as they drifted about. They were quite high in the sky, but they’d tested the magical leashes. They should work.

“Now, carefully,” Geoff hissed. “We’ve seen how aggressive they can be.”

Indeed, on one of their trips to the cave to plan, they’d witnessed a Ghast attacking a Blaze down on the ground. The bolts of flame they spat were as explosive as a creeper’s blast, and left deep craters in the landscape. He didn’t fancy the thought of one of those hitting him full on.

Tamora gave a curt nod. Geoff crept forward, and pulled out one of the leashes. It crackled with a dark energy. He wasn’t a hundred percent certain that this would work - they hadn’t had time to test them, and the crystallised magic here was different to the magic from their world - but they had no other choice. He swung the rope back and then threw it out towards the nearest Ghast.

It fell short.

The leash just grazed the Ghast’s side, and then flopped limply to the ground. When it brushed against the creature, there was a crackle of dark magic, but it hadn’t made enough contact.

The Ghast turned towards them. Its eyes opened, revealing huge, glistening black orbs. Then its mouth stretched open, and it gave a horrible, grating screech before spitting a massive ball of fire at Geoff.

“Fuck! Get back!” he yelled, and leaped behind the cover of the cliff. The fireball hit the side of the mountain just above him and exploded, taking a huge chunk out of the cliff and sending a shower of rocks and dirt down on top of them.

“Idiot!” Tamora hissed.

Heedless of the fireballs the Ghast was spitting, she strode out from behind cover, swung her own leash in a circle a few times, and then hurled it out towards the Ghast.

This time, it struck true. 

The leash struck across the Ghast’s body, and a fizzle of dark magic danced across its entire form. Its legs hung limp as it drifted, mouth hanging open, quiet and subdued.

Tamora dragged it backwards, wrapping the end of the leash around her wrist. The Ghast followed easily, trapped and paralysed but - thank the gods - still hanging in the air. 

There were about six or seven Ghast in the flock, and the others were already moving in, eyes open to spit fire. Tamora paid the blasts no heed, dancing left and right to avoid them as she already swung a leash from another hand. It took her a few tries, but she soon captured another, with brutal efficiency.

Not to be outdone, Geoff took a deep breath and darted from cover. He swung the leash back and then targeted another Ghast. When it made contact, the leash was nearly wrenched from his hand. He felt sparks of magic tingle through his entire body - an odd sensation, he hadn’t felt it in so long, not being able to use the Sight in here. For a moment his feet nearly slipped from under him - but he got it under control, flinching back as another fireball exploded against the ground next to him, leaving a deep pit-like crater. He stood on the end of the leash to keep it still and hurled another.

Each with two Ghast in hand, they exchanged a glance before starting to run back towards the city. The Ghast, remarkably light, trailed passively along behind them - but the rest of the flock followed in hot pursuit, still spitting fire.

The noise was tremendous, a series of echoing explosions, and Geoff knew the Overlord would hear them from the city. He himself was just focused on not being blown the fuck up, jumping at every loud blast, the ground seeming to crumble just behind his feet. They were sprinting full-speed, Tamora drawing ahead of him with her long strides.

An explosion just beside him sent Geoff stumbling sideways - the crater it left was so deep he could see nothing but darkness at the bottom.

“Shit,” he hissed, gasping as he stumbled to get back upright.

They were almost at the back gates of the city.

The high wall loomed ahead of them, and Geoff could see the scuttling, dark figures of the Overlord’s magical guards swarming towards the exit. He glanced at Tamora, who jerked the leash and let her two Ghast free. He followed suit.

The whole lot of them were here by now, and as the guards emerged from the gates, they began to attack the city. Geoff and Tamora ducked back as the wall began to crumble, hit by the exploding fireballs. He pressed himself back against another section of the wall as a huge crater opened up next to him, the ground crumbling away.

“It’s working!” he yelled.

“Clearly!” she shouted back.

“We need to find the others! The Overlord will come back here to see what’s going on, it should be enough of a distraction! Let’s make our way around the front and-”

“Correction!” she cut in. He could barely hear her over the explosions. A fireball hit a cluster of the magical guards and reduced them to black dust. He stared at Tamora, her face streaked with dust and sweat - her ice blue eyes glinting with that same cold anger as before. A shiver ran down his spine as he suddenly realised that something was wrong here. “ _You_ need to find the others.”

Before he could react, she’d shoved him in the chest with a quick, vicious motion. He stumbled back - only to find nothing but empty air under his feet as he toppled down into the crater left by the Ghast’s explosion.

He shrieked as he fell, his stomach lurching. The pit was deep, and dark at the bottom. He hit the rocky ground with a devastating impact that knocked the wind out of him; for a few moments he choked, unable to breathe, before he finally managed to suck in one hoarse, gasping breath.

“ _Shit_ ,” he hissed.

Everything hurt. His back ached terribly, and his arm had landed under him at an odd angle. He could barely move it.

But this wasn’t his physical body, and injuries healed quickly. He stumbled to his feet, simmering with rage, and stared up. The jagged walls of the pit led up to a small opening of red sky. He saw the form of one of the Ghasts drift overhead, and more explosions, followed by a loud _crash_ as more of the wall collapsed. Then the telltale thunder of the Overlord approaching. Hot anger swelled up in his chest, nearly choking him again.

“ _Fuck!”_ he yelled, and struck the nearest wall with his fist. He shouldn’t have trusted her, hadn’t expected a betrayal _this_ early. Whatever she was planning, it couldn’t be good if she felt she had to get him out of the way first. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

 

* * *

 

Jack returned to his body and sat up with a gasp as explosions rang out in the distance, deafening in the otherwise silent space of the Nether. 

He’d explored the city as thoroughly as he could - the empty buildings, the twisted dark tunnels of the mines where the souls had all returned to work, out of habit and in fear of the Overlord’s wrath. The guards patrolled the walls, a frighteningly large number of them - and the Overlord himself was away, presumably scouring the landscape for the rest of them.

And then, of course, he’d found Michael and Ryan, deep underground in some sort of pit filled with machinery. He’d wanted to appear to let them know they were coming, but before he got the chance he’d heard the explosions, and known they had no time to waste. The distraction wouldn’t last for long, and they had to get to the city before it was too late.

Still. He’d seen that the others were alive, even if the place they were in was terrible - cramped and dark and intensely _hot_ , and filled with the grating, chugging noise of the furnaces and the screams of the souls forced to work there.

Now, he turned and stared out the cavern entrance. He could see, floating above the city, the white forms of the Ghast, and fires burning along one stretch of the wall.

“You find them?” Ray asked, and Jack shook the last of his thoughts away. The other man was close by his side, and his warm hand on Jack’s shoulder was reassuring.

“Yes,” he replied, and met Ray’s eyes for a moment. Ray looked worried, but determined, and also far more sure of himself than any of the other times Jack had seen him. He really had grown up the last year, he thought, with a touch of wistfulness but also a strange sense of pride.

Gavin and Weisheng walked back over. Jack turned to them, and something odd struck him, something he couldn’t place. He’d only just met Weisheng, but in that moment he noticed that the two had the same look about them - something dark, something that came from the Wild. How they walked with the soft steps of thieves rather than the confident strides of soldiers. It was hard to describe, but it was there. He didn’t think Gavin had ever had it before he took the crown.

“Where are they?” Gavin asked.

“Underground,” Jack replied, “Down a dark tunnel opposite the mines, at the back of the city. It’s filled with some kind of machinery. They’re chained to the wall but they’ve heard the explosions. They’ll know we’re coming…”

He trailed off. Weisheng was grimacing, and when they all turned to look at him, he shook his head, fear in his eyes.

“That’s the furnace,” he said, softly. “People are sent there as punishment. It’s dangerous in there - especially for you with your human bodies. Painful. Too hot to function properly. There’s also only the one entrance.”

“Yes, I saw it,” Jack replied. “It’s on the side of the city where the Ghast are attacking, which isn’t ideal. But we can get there over the wall.”

“That should work fine,” Weisheng replied. “People will be fleeing the mines in case they cave in. The chaos in the streets will serve as cover.”

“Let’s go then,” Jack said, and rose. “No time to lose.”

It didn’t take them long to get ready. They gave Weisheng a spare dagger, then downed the potions that they still had in the supply bag. Speed and strength, to get them across the landscape quickly and aid in the fights with the magical creatures. Fire resistance - with the Ghast around, that one would be invaluable. 

“Close now,” Gavin murmured by Jack’s side, looking up at him with worried eyes. _Close to the fight. Close to getting out of here. Close to all six of us being together again. Close to whatever might happen after that_.

Jack nodded. His stomach felt tight, and there was something almost nostalgic about all this. It reminded him of going into battle, of those long months spent pushing back Mark Nutt’s forces. He hadn’t missed that at all - the danger, the tension.

There were more explosions on the horizon, then a crack of thunder. Through the bond, he could feel the alarm and fear of Michael and Ryan, but swallowed it down. They’d be there soon.

Ray moved up on his other side and squeezed his arm reassuringly. Jack took a deep breath. Flanked by the two of them, he felt stronger. He knew how powerful they were, how capable.

Weisheng was beckoning them, his worn little face pinched and nervous. Jack had been shocked to see how Geoff, too, had seemed rundown, like an old painting left out in the elements. But his body was safely back in their world, he knew. And now Geoff had done his part of the mission. It was time for them to do theirs.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, and they rushed out of the cliff and towards the city together.

 

* * *

 

The race to the city was fairly uneventful. The Overlord arced overhead at one point, a dark blur speeding through the sky towards the city - but they ducked behind one of the enormous boulders dotting the landscape, and he passed by, oblivious.

“Where’s Geoff?” Ray asked softly, as they waited for the Overlord to get a safe distance away.  
  
“No idea,” Jack muttered back. “We can’t feel him. It’s inconvenient.”

“He knows his way around the city,” Weisheng piped up. “He’ll be able to make his way back to us.”

He paused for a moment, seeming to contemplate whether he should continue - then added, a touch awkwardly, “From what I’ve seen of him these last few months, he’s resourceful and determined. He’ll be fine. He’s dead set on getting out of here - nothing will stop him. He seems to love you all very much.”

Jack gave a small smile. He couldn’t help it. Even after all this time it still warmed him.

“Yeah,” he said, softly.

Weisheng looked between all of them a bit questioningly. He’d seen Geoff with Gavin, and it was clear he was curious about how Ray fit into things - but they didn’t explain. The Overlord was gone now, and they continued on to the wall.

The city loomed above them, an unnerving fortress of bare stone. The walls were mostly empty, all the magical guards gone to fight the Ghast on the far side. Explosions still rang out, making the ground tremble beneath them, and as they watched one of the Ghast fell slowly from the sky, landing on the ground with a rumbling _crash!_ Swarming dark creatures leaped from the wall onto another Ghast, tearing at it with their sharp fingers.

Jack swallowed, jerking his eyes from the sight.

“Ray, go,” he ordered.

Beside him, Ray swallowed. His jaw was set, but Jack could see the nervousness in his eyes. He crouched and pressed one palm to the ground. It took a moment - the ground here was rocky, and there was little proper dirt in it - but after a moment it darkened, became more fertile, and Ray drew plants from the newly created earth and began to grow a series of vines up the wall.

Jack stared, impressed. He’d heard that Ray had been expanding the use of his powers, but save that outburst back in the mining village, he hadn’t really seen it firsthand. The vines that stretched up to the top of the wall were thick and strong, and glowed for a moment before fading to a healthy green.

His confidence and determination made Jack’s heart swell with a bright, strong love for him. When Ray finished and rose again, breathing heavily, Jack reached out and rubbed his arm with a small smile. Ray shook his hair out of his face and smiled back.

“I’m sending my Endermen up ahead,” Gavin announced, and they all turned to him. “I’ll get them to teleport to the furnace so the others know we’re coming. If they’re chained up like you said, the Endermen can get them free.”

“Good idea,” Jack said, nodding.

With a sharp wave of his hand, Gavin dismissed the two mobs. They vanished in a flash of purple light and Gavin wasted no time turning and grasping the vines.

“Let’s go then!” he cried.

He began to scale the wall with his usual nimble ease. Jack turned to Ray and gave him a boost up; the other man accepted gratefully. He remembered how when they were all in the Wild kingdom, scaling the ridiculously large trees and trekking through the jungle landscape, Ray hadn’t been as agile as the others. Jack hadn’t been so absorbed in his own problems then that he hadn’t noticed how Ray turned to Ryan for help - of course, he’d been fighting with Michael then, had probably wanted to make him jealous.

How things had changed now! Slowly, slowly - they were all coming together. He could see it.

He waited for Ray to get some distance up, then began to climb himself. The vines were sturdy and the tangled, weaving pattern held plenty of footholds. The potions he’d taken made things even easier, and Jack hauled himself up the wall quickly.

Gavin had reached the top by now. He reached down and dragged Ray up next to him, then turned to Jack, grasping his hand. He steadied him as he clambered up onto the wall - only for Jack to freeze as, over Gavin’s shoulder, he noticed a few of the shadow creatures who had still been standing guard on this side. They were rushing towards them, and Jack snatched his hand from Gavin’s and drew his sword.

“Behind you!” he yelled.

Ray whipped around. He pulled his bow from his back and had an arrow nocked in an instant, firing at the beasts. The arrows phased harmlessly through them as though they were nothing but mist, and Ray let out a frustrated growl, but didn’t give up.

Weisheng had scrambled up behind them too. Brandishing a knife, he and Gavin rushed forward. Both nimbly ducked the clawed arms that swung towards them, twisting around to stab at the creatures. A slash from Gavin’s dagger caught one of the beasts on the backswing; it crumbled away and Jack surged forward with his own sword to stab another through its great, swelling belly as it turned to take Gavin by surprise. He wrenched the blade up through the creature’s torso, then its head. It split in half and crumbled away.

Ray’s arrow hit another creature just as it materialised into its solid form, claws lashing towards the side of Jack’s neck. It stumbled backwards and the next three arrows thudded into it, sending it into dust. That was the last of them, and they stood, catching their breath. Jack’s heart was pounding, but he felt good. The potions were helping, and he wondered if this was how Michael felt all the time. No wonder he enjoyed fighting so much, if he had this constant, exhilarating thrill.

From up here, there was a good view of the other end of the city. Jack turned, and froze.

Part of the wall had crumbled away. Two Ghast had fallen, but the others were still going strong, and had entered the city by now, shooting fireballs at the buildings and sending them crashing to the ground in piles of broken debris. Although some people were in the mines, others were beginning to run out into the streets, trying to get into their houses for cover.

“There,” Weisheng said, and pointed to a staircase leading down to ground level. They ran down and Jack looked around. The city was familiar to him from the exploring he’d done in the Sight, although there were creatures swarming around now, particularly as one of the Ghast targeted the mines and with a rumbling _crash_ , part of it began to cave in.

Ray suddenly turned and began to run back towards the front gates.

“Where are you going?” Jack shouted after him, but soon realised what he was doing. He was pulling the lever that lifted a heavy bar from the gate, his muscles straining. With a creaking groan, the gates slowly began to swing open, and Ray flung out an arm, gesturing furiously for the souls milling in the streets to start to run. When they realised they could get out, they swarmed towards the opening, feet thundering through the streets - so many that Jack had to spring back against the wall to avoid being trampled.

Ray headed back towards them. Gavin glanced worriedly at the back of the city.

“The Overlord,” he began.

“He’ll be distracted by trying to round up all of them, too,” Ray pointed out, and then lifted his chin as he turned to look at the fleeing creatures. “If they want to try and escape, it’s their choice-”

He broke off with a sudden cry of pain, stumbling backwards and falling against the wall. Jack’s eyes widened as he noticed the black arrow in his shoulder. He whirled around and saw one remaining shadow-creature up on the wall, high up out of their reach.

He instinctively moved in front of Ray to protect him - but Gavin was already raising his dagger and hurling it. It flew in a neat arc and buried itself to the hilt in the creature’s chest; it fell forward and toppled off the wall out of sight.

“Impressive,” Weisheng commented.

“I didn’t know you could throw knives!” Jack exclaimed.

“Ryan taught me in the Stoneworld,” Gavin replied, but was already rushing to Ray’s side. “Shit, Ray, are you-”  
  
“I’m fine.” Ray’s face was pale, but he was already moving to snap off the arrowhead. “It’s not that bad.”

“But the arrow…” Gavin trailed off, and Jack could hear the dread in his voice. He knew what he was scared of; that this was something like the Wither’s weapons, with their mysterious poison. That Ray would be the next to fall ill and die.

But Geoff had been fevered and weak instantly. Ray’s mouth was drawn tight with pain, but he was still upright.

“It’s not poisoned,” Weisheng spoke up. “The creatures are made of magic but all they have are sharp claws and weapons. The crystals themselves aren’t… toxic, or anything.”

“Good to know,” Jack said. His heart was pounding, though, the momentary panic still seizing up in his chest. But Ray was already pushing himself off the wall - there was blood leaking down his arm in rivets, and a stain on the stone behind him - and heading down the road.

“We don’t have time,” he said. “I told you, I’m fine. I can hold on until we get back home.”

His arm was held against his side and he couldn’t seem to move it much, but Jack knew he was right. They didn’t have time to waste, and he pushed his worry aside as they continued down the road, the only people moving deeper into the city instead of rushing out of the gates. 

As they watched, another Ghast fell from the sky. They saw the Overlord materialise in the air alongside them, and draw a sword of flickering fire. He swung it towards the nearest Ghast - only for another to open its mouth and shoot a fireball that hit him right in the face. He flew backwards, and Jack had to stifle a snort.

“They’re the only things big enough to stop him,” Gavin murmured.

“Kinda wanna shoot him right in the balls,” Ray added. “Kinda wanna do it.”

Jack laughed, glad the other man was still in good spirits.

“I’d rather get out of here without having to face him head-on again!” he pointed out. Even with their own gifts, he couldn’t think of a way they could manage to defeat the Overlord, not when he was so large, not when their mortal weapons did no damage to him and he had a seemingly unlimited supply of his own magic. Maybe if they’d had time to plan and prepare - but they didn’t.

They had reached the dark opening of the furnace by now. Weisheng hung back, hesitant.

“It’s bad down there,” he muttered.

“Bloody bad up here, too!” Gavin commented, looking around. On this side of the city, the buildings were crumbled and almost everything was on fire.

“I’ll wait out here, stop anything coming down after you,” Weisheng declared.

Jack was pretty sure he just didn’t want to go underground, but they needed someone on lookout, anyway. He squeezed into the opening and headed down the steep slope of the tunnel. He knew the path from exploring in the Sight, but in reality he could feel everything - the tight walls, how fucking _hot_ it was. He was dripping in sweat within minutes, and it felt hard to  breathe.

There was another explosion outside, and the entire passage trembled. Dirt crumbled from above them, and he heard Ray suck in a nervous breath. He glanced over his shoulder, but Gavin was already reaching out to steady Ray, hand trailing reassuringly down his uninjured arm.

Jack knew the way to go, and with the potions fuelling them, it didn’t take long for them to reach the metal door he knew led into the others’ cell.

“My Endermen are in there,” Gavin spoke up. “They removed their chains.”

“Gavin, that you out there?” Michael’s voice called from behind the door, and Jack heard a hysterical little giggle burst from his own mouth. He had felt the others were still alive, but he’d still been scared for them, and it was a relief to hear him speaking.

“Michael, boi!” Gavin cried happily. “We came to rescue you!”

“Well get this fucking door open, we’ve been listening to shit going down outside for the last hour!”

Gavin stepped up to the door and pressed a hand flat to the metal surface.

“Michael, my lovely little damsel in distress, be patient,” he chided. He closed his eyes and Jack knew he must be ordering the mobs to do something; a moment later the door vanished in a flash of purple. The Enderman reappeared behind them in the tunnel, holding onto it. The doorframe crumbled a little, a shower of dust raining down - but when it cleared Jack saw the other two standing behind it, and could’ve cried in relief.

They looked awful. They were both nursing injuries and were covered in sweat-streaked grime, looking tired and listless from so long in the heat, their hair plastered wetly to their foreheads. Ryan was spattered with blood, dotting his face and neck and down his shirt. But they both rushed forward, and none of the injuries seemed too bad.

“Shit, are you guys okay?” Ray asked, already moving to hug Michael. It was difficult in the cramped space, and he cried out when Michael jostled his shoulder - concerned, Michael pulled back to check what was going on.

“Ryan!” Jack exclaimed, turning to him and reaching out to clasp his arms. “Your face.”

There were claw marks down one side of his cheek, bleeding sluggishly. Though not fatal, the wounds looked deep and painful, and Jack’s heart tugged at how prominent they were.

Gavin came up next to him. His eyes widened, but he moved to Ryan’s side and slipped an arm through his.

“We match,” he said softly, gesturing at his own scars.

“I’m fine,” Ryan said, and Jack noticed how his eyes were hard and he seemed distracted. “My mother-”

Ah. So he’d heard, then.

“She’s with Geoff,” Jack cut in, “They were working together to get out of here. She helped us-”

“ _What_?” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Jack squeezed his hands soothingly. “Look, Geoff’s dealing with her. It’ll be fine. It’s complicated, but at least our plan’s working…”

He trailed off. Ryan didn’t seem to be hearing him; anger, fear and pain warred on his face.

“Jack,” he repeated slowly, as though Jack was a particularly thick student who wasn’t quite getting what his teacher was saying. “My _mother_ is here.”

He pulled his hands from Jack’s, fists clenching, and Jack’s heart lurched at the pain in his voice. But he reached out for Ryan again, and the other man didn’t pull away when Jack wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a gentle hug. Ryan’s shoulders were stiff, but after a moment some of the tension leached away and his arms came up to wrap loosely around Jack as well.

“It’s okay,” Jack murmured. “We’ll sort it out. There’s no way she’s coming back with us.”

He felt Ryan nod against his shoulder. After a moment he pulled back, and turned to Gavin, who was watching with concern. Ryan gave him a small smile and stepped over to him, reaching out to cup Gavin’s cheek. Gavin leaned into his touch and then moved forward to hug Ryan tightly as well.

Jack watched them and couldn’t help but feel something a little too close to envy stir in his chest. He tried to shake it off, but it clung. After how Gavin had pushed him away earlier, he was hurt to see him so easily go to Ryan. After all, Ryan was a king, too, with a disapproving court. What was the difference?

The jealousy felt ugly, and he tried to swallow it down, moving across to Michael instead.

“You okay?” he asked. There was something tense and jittery in Michael’s bearing that Jack hadn’t seen from him before.

Michael swiped some of the grime from his face and shrugged.

“I hate it in here,” he said. “I hate tunnels. It’s too hot, it’s making me feel sick. I’m ready to get the fuck out of this place.”

Ray reached out to soothe him, rubbing his arm gently. Jack did too, their eyes meeting as he stepped forward to squeeze Michael’s hand. Michael looked angry and exhausted, but there was still fight left in him, and Jack smiled before tugging at his hand.

“Come on then,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They hurried back through the tunnel. Things were a little quieter up above now - or they were for a few minutes, then there was another deafening _crash!_ that made everybody jump.

“Geoff’s with you?” Michael asked, as they ran.

“Yes,” Jack called back. “He brought the Ghast to the city. We’ll meet up with him outside. He’s here,” he reassured them, “And he’s fine.”

“Thank the gods,” he heard Ryan say behind him.

It was a relief to burst out into the open air. Compared to the furnace, it almost felt cool. Weisheng was waiting outside, and he straightened up when he saw them. Jack’s heart sank as he realised the other man was alone.

“Let’s go!” Weisheng yelled, but Jack caught his arm.

“Geoff didn’t show up?”

“No,” Weisheng said, “But let’s get to safety, then you can use the Sight to find him. Your arm is bleeding heavily,” he added, glancing at Ray. Jack looked over and his stomach dropped. The other man’s arm was coated in red. He’d been so quiet that Jack had assumed he’d just stopped bleeding. “You need to treat that and we can’t do it in the middle of a battlefield. The front gate is open. Flee with the others.”

Jack nodded, reluctantly. Geoff couldn’t be killed in this world, and the Overlord was still fighting up above, so he clearly hadn’t caught them. Maybe he was just lost in the city somewhere. He could find him with the Sight, but Ray needed help first.

“Okay then,” he said, and turned to go.

“Stone king,” he heard Weisheng say behind them.

“That’s me,” Ryan replied warily, and clearly had no idea who the fuck Weisheng was.

“Seal the furnace.”

“What?”  
  
“His magic’s in there,” Weisheng explained, pointing at the dark opening. “You must’ve seen it. He can’t use the crystals until they’re processed. When he runs out, and he will eventually, he’ll go down there to get more. Seal it up with redstone - he won’t be able to get to it.”

Ryan nodded. He turned to do it, and then glanced over his shoulders at the others.

“This is big,” he called, “It’ll take a while! Get Ray out of here, you need to stop that bleeding. I’ll catch up.”

“Ryan!” Gavin called back, not sounding like he liked that plan very much. He had an arm around Ray, supporting him, but Ryan shook his head and motioned for him to go.

“I won’t take long. I’ll be right behind you.”

Jack bit his lip, wary - but they didn’t have time. There were still two Ghast in the sky and more and more of the city was falling. He nodded at Ryan before taking off with the others, uneasy.

 

* * *

 

Ryan lowered his hands as the blazing redstone faded to a dull glow. He’d had to heat it enough that it caused parts of the entrance to the cavern to crumble and become blocked in, and it was a lot of exertion after how tired he already was. He wiped his brow, and turned to leave-

Only to freeze, everything seeming to go silent and still.

The streets were emptier now. There were still two Ghast in the sky, fighting with the Overlord-  but the battle had drifted away from the city as they whirled through the air. Many of the souls had already run out into the wilderness, hoping for an escape or at least a reprieve from the mines. 

But standing in one of the narrow alleys between two of the stone buildings - one of them crumbling from a Ghast’s blast - there was his mother, watching him. She was leaning against the wall, chest heaving like she’d been running and had only stopped because she’d caught sight of him.

Ryan’s blood ran cold, and his chest tightened. For a moment he forgot to breathe - but he thought of Michael, drew on his hot anger rather than frozen fear, and forced his face to harden and become blank even if his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it could burst right out of his chest.

Tamora was staring at him with a funny look on her face. It wasn’t the same stern coldness she’d always seemed to wear when he was growing up, constantly desperate to be in control. No - there was something almost _softer_ about this.

She seemed shocked, too. But then she shook herself, and straightened up. She began to walk towards him, and as she got through the clearing dust of the street Ryan noticed how old she looked, how worn away. She hadn’t physically aged, but there was something faded to her, like ink on a page that’d been exposed to the elements. Still - her features were the same. Her ice-blue eyes and strong jaw. Sometimes he hated how alike they looked.

“Ryan,” she called, and his whole body tensed as he resisted the urge to flinch at the familiar sound of her voice, sending a rush of memories back through him. “That’s what they all keep calling you, Ramsey and the others. Ryan. Not James.”

His mouth felt dry as sand. He swallowed, and was relieved by how steady his voice remained as he replied, “You named me after my grandfather. He was even worse than you. It’s not a legacy I want to carry- _don’t come any closer!”_

Tamora wasn’t holding any weapons, but he was hardly about to trust her. She stopped at the end of the street, and something flickered across her face. She looked… almost _hurt_ , and Ryan frowned in confusion.

“Why are you still here?” he demanded.

“I wanted to get out.” Her voice was oddly soft, and he didn’t like it. It made him uneasy, made him feel like there was some trick here he wasn’t seeing.

“ _Why_?”

“I was taken before my time.” She rather pointedly didn’t mention exactly _who_ had been responsible for that. “I knew that there was a way. I wanted to come _back_ , to not… not leave things as they were.”

“What?” Ryan demanded, and the anger rose up in the back of his throat, bitter and hot like bile. “Your wall unfinished? Not enough people dead yet?”

“No,” she replied. “With my own son hating me enough to kill me.” 

He stared at her blankly, and she took another shuffling step forward.

“There’s time to… to reflect, in here,” she said, and huffed. “Gods know there’s not much else to do.”

“What the fuck are you trying to say?”

“I’m sorry.”

Of everything he’d expected, it hadn’t been that. He froze, and knew his hard expression had flickered. 

“What?” he asked, slowly.

The expression on his mother’s face was so foreign that for a moment she looked like a different person.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’m sorry for making you do what you had to. For a long time, I was angry about it. I thought you’d betrayed me. But now I realise, I betrayed myself. And I betrayed you, too.”

Ryan stared for a moment. Then he shook himself, feeling as though he was waking from a dream. He couldn’t fucking believe this, and confusion quickly melted into more anger.

“What the fuck?” he spat, and took a furious step towards her. He could feel his face twisting angrily, fighting back tears as he shouted every word. “ _Fuck you!_ You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to come back and _say that_ \- if you’re really fucking _sorry_ , just accept that you’re dead and pass the fuck on. I don’t want to see you again. I never did-”

“I understand, you have a right to be angry-”

“I don’t need your fucking _permission!”_ The stone under his feet crackled with red light, and he paused, breathing heavily, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails cut half-moons into his palms. His eyes stung, but he blinked the tears away furiously. “I _am_ angry! Everything I’ve done has been to fix the damage _you_ caused! You and everyone else in our fucking family! You’re right, I don’t want the name you gave me. I don’t want _any_ of it, not even Haywood! But I’m _more_ than you,” he hissed, and there was something dangerous and dark in his voice, even to him. “I’m more than any of them, so how about you stay here in the ruins where you belong? I’m leaving with the others, and you can’t come back with us. You had your chance. It’s over now. So fuck you, mother.”

Tamora stared at him. For the first time he saw her eyes widen, her lips pressed tight together. She didn’t speak, just nodded, and Ryan was trembling as he turned away.

He had every intention of storming off down the street and returning to the others. Every fucking intention. He took two steps - then stopped, shoulders heaving.

He couldn’t do it.

Even now she had some sort of hold over him. He couldn’t cut ties so easily, felt like if he left now there’d be no _closure_. He’d said his piece, but she hadn’t said hers, not properly. Not one he believed.

He whirled back around, eyes blazing. Tamora hadn’t moved, and looked shocked that he’d turned back.

“You don’t mean all that shit,” Ryan snapped. “Why the fuck would you say it?”

“I do mean it,” she replied, quietly. “I… I thought about it, when I was working here. _Suffering_ here. Like I said, for a long time, I was angry. Hated you for what you’d done to me. But then King Ramsey started telling me everything you’d done for my - your - _our_ people. I never thought you were capable, but James - _Ryan_ \- you proved me so wrong. I mean it. It took seeing you in person to realise just how _much_ I…”

She trailed off, voice faltering. Ryan stood, staring at her - fists still clenched, a burning lump in his throat. They were words he’d longed to hear as a boy. That had been a long, long time ago, but there was something visceral to how the reaction came back to him in a sweeping wave.

“I built a lot,” Tamora continued, and swallowed. “I raised a wall, a city, I enforced the laws, but I couldn’t raise my own child-”

“What are you doing?” Ryan croaked out. “I don’t want your apologies. I don’t _care_ anymore.”

Tamora moved towards him. He stood frozen, transfixed.

“Ryan,” she urged. “I really am sorry. I don’t expect you to believe me, let alone forgive me. But I’ll stay here, I’ll help hold off the Overlord so the rest of you can leave - let me do that, at least. I just wanted to _tell_ you this before I die. It’s the least I can do.”

He stared at her - her clear eyes, her faded, wispy form, like a ghost - but somehow not the ghoul he’d always been frightened of seeing wandering the halls of the Stone fortress at night. Just a sad, old woman, hands reaching out to him now.

“The others are lucky to have you on their side,” she said.

He squeezed his eyes shut, blinking away the tears. When he opened them again, she was stepping forward, nearly close enough to touch now-

Then she lunged at him, a sudden flash of movement. He barely had time to register what was going on, when suddenly there was a cord pulled mercilessly tight around his neck, and he was hauled back against her, breath cut off, an iron-strong grip keeping whatever it was wrapped around his throat. It was a leash of some sort, and he gagged, choking as he struggled in her grasp.

She dragged him backwards, keeping the cord pulled tight. He was pressed against her, the hard, lean lines of her body flush against his back in a parody of a mother’s embrace. There was that brutish soldier’s strength, not worn away one bit from her time in here.

His hands flew up, scrabbling, but he couldn’t get a grip on the rope, and when his hands closed around her wrists and tugged, they didn’t budge an inch.

He couldn’t breathe.

Betrayal, even fear flew away in the face of sheer _panic_. His windpipe was completely blocked, the cord digging into his flesh so hard that he felt a warm trickle of blood run down his throat. His ears roared and popped as he desperately struggled.

“I was curious what you’d say,” her voice hissed in his ear suddenly. “If you’d be weak enough to falter and accept my apologies. Maybe you’re more ruthless than I thought. Ruthless enough to kill your own mother. Well, don’t ever doubt that I’m ruthless enough to kill my son, you pathetic little bitch.”

Ryan gasped weakly. Everything was going black, his vision blurring and dancing with colourful spots before it began fading at the edges. He felt lightheaded, felt his knees grow weak under him. In a last ditch effort, he called on his gift and stamped his foot. Redstone blazed under them, but it didn’t faze Tamora. She just yanked the cord tighter and started to laugh-

Only to break off with a choked gurgle.

The cord loosened, her arms falling away from him, and Ryan crumpled to his knees. He coughed and retched, choking in heaving gasps. His vision still flashed with spots, and he fell forward, bracing himself on his hands and knees. His throat burned terribly, and he felt so dizzy he couldn’t stand up.

Finally, he managed to turn, eyes streaming. He blinked and as his vision cleared he saw Tamora stumbling backwards, clutching her stomach. Blood was spouting between her fingers, and Ryan looked up to see Geoff standing there, scowling, brandishing a pitchfork.

_What the fuck…_

Geoff looked dishevelled and worn. He had the same faded quality as Tamora, though not as bad - but beyond that, he was absolutely covered in dust and grime. There was a hole burned in his ragged clothes, and his hair was singed and sticking up every which way. But it was _Geoff_ , and Ryan felt almost hysterical with relief at the sight of him.

“Wow,” Geoff said - he was staring at Tamora with undisguised disgust, but beneath that, he sounded shocked as well. “What the fuck. What the _fuck_? I shouldn’t be surprised, but _gods_ , Tamora. Holy shit.”

He shook himself, then turned to Ryan. His eyes widened, and he rushed to crouch beside him.

“Ryan.” Ryan could nearly cry at hearing the other man say his name; a voice he almost hadn’t realised he missed so much. “Ryan, shit, are you okay?”

It was like seeing an angel, with the glowing red sky behind him. Geoff’s warm face, his brow furrowed with concern, his eyes clear and blue. Ryan reached for him desperately - clutched at his shirt and let the other man tug him against his chest. He fell against him, Geoff supporting most of his weight as he pulled him into a tight hug. Ryan tried to speak, but his throat hurt and nothing but a strangled croak came out.

“Ryan,” Geoff repeated softly, and squeezed him tighter. 

Running footsteps down the street made both of them whirl around. Geoff rose, brandishing the pitchfork - but it was Michael who sprinted towards them, skidding to a halt.

“Ryan!” he cried. His eyes widened at the sight of Geoff, but he continued, “I felt you in the bond, you were… fucking hell, what _happened_?”

Geoff gestured wordlessly at Tamora, kneeling on the ground, still nursing her bleeding injuries. Ryan knew she wouldn’t die - couldn’t, here - but it had slowed her down. Michael glanced between them, and when he noticed Ryan, his face clouded over. He made for Tamora, furiously - but Geoff held out a hand to stop him.

“Michael,” he said - Michael’s face crumpled a little at the sound of his voice. “Leave it. We need to go.”

Michael nodded. He stepped towards Geoff and the other man reached out, his hand wrapping around the back of Michael’s neck and tugging him close, pressing their foreheads together for a brief, intimate moment before he turned to help Ryan up.

His head was still spinning, but the others steadied him as they pulled him to his feet. Tamora was watching them from the ground - her eyes burning - Ryan turned and stared at her with undisguised hate and anger. He felt stupid, and ashamed that he had almost, for a moment, let himself be fooled again. He mustered as much saliva as his dry mouth could produce and spat towards her, bloodstained flecks that spattered over her face. She didn’t flinch, just scowled back at him.

“Leave her,” Geoff said, and started to pull Ryan away, when suddenly the ground trembled and they all stumbled.

“The fuck,” Michael began, but he barely had time to get the words out before Ryan _felt_ something. The magic in the air shifting with a sudden, electric tingle that sent a shiver down his spine. An uneasy _wrongness_ that had appeared in an instant.

He turned to see the Overlord pulling his sword from the last Ghast in the distance. It fell to the ground, a small white form - they were far from the city, now - but the Overlord’s silhouette seemed just as confused as they were as he twisted around, trying to see what was going on.

And then the sky turned golden, spreading beams of light emerging from a single bright point in the distance. It wasn’t the same area that their own door was located in - the opposite side of the landscape, in fact - and the rays were beautiful, transfixing. Ryan reached out through the bond and felt Ray, Gavin and Jack’s confusion, mirroring his.

“What the fuck is happening?” Michael whispered.

Ryan couldn’t help twisting to look at Tamora. She’d struggled upright and was on one knee now, her face tilted up towards the yellow light, looking just as unsure what was going on as the rest of them. Ryan swallowed. It hurt to talk, and when he spoke, his voice was a rasping whisper, so quiet the others had to lean in close to hear it.

“Someone’s opened another portal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another incredible piece of art by justisaisfine - [Gavin and Ryan in the lab in Broken Heavens](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/156151185024/justisaisfinehe-paused-swallowing-a-heavy-sort). Thank you so much <3 <3 <3


	8. Chapter 8

Ray hissed in pain as Gavin pulled the bandage tight around his arm. His shoulder hurt, a deep, persistent throb, and he felt a little lightheaded from the blood loss. Honestly, until Weisheng pointed it out, he’d barely even noticed how bad the injury had gotten, too focused on finding Michael and Ryan. Even now he was distracted again; they’d felt the flare of panic and fear from Ryan’s end of the bond, and Michael had turned back to go and get him, leaving Ray once again worried about what might be happening.

“Easy now,” Gavin murmured. He fished for another potion of strength and pressed it into Ray’s hand. “That should help you recover faster.”

“Thought it’d just make me stronger.”

“It does a bunch of things. Drink up, we still have a ways to go getting back to the door.” Gavin squeezed his hand before turning to look back at Jack.

The four of them hadn’t returned to the cave yet. Instead they’d ended up ducking into one of the empty stone buildings, waiting for Michael and Ryan to catch up to them. Clearly something had gone wrong on Ryan’s end, and the last thing they wanted was to leave them alone in the city.

Now Ray sat on the floor in the corner, Gavin crouched next to him. Jack and Weisheng peered out the open door of the building, keeping an eye on the battle still raging in the sky and waiting for the others to catch up.

_We still don’t know where Geoff is,_ Ray thought, and bit his lip. It was unbelievably inconvenient that they couldn’t feel the other man in the soul bond. He wanted to know where Geoff was, if he was okay, if he was with the others. They couldn’t leave without him.

He downed the potion and squeezed his eyes shut as he felt it spread a nearly burning heat through his chest. After a moment, the pain faded to nothing but a dull throb, and he felt energy seep back into him.

“You okay?” Gavin asked quietly, and Ray opened his eyes to find the other man crouched close, peering at him in concern. He smiled.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said, and gave a little snort. “Not normally the one getting hurt in battles and shit, am I?”

Gavin frowned. He seemed worried, and clearly didn’t like seeing Ray in pain; it was true, usually Michael was the one getting himself into trouble, or Gavin himself over in the Wild. But Gavin just picked up a cloth and started gently cleaning the blood from Ray’s arm. After a moment Ray reached up and thumbed a smudge of blood off Gavin’s face, cupping his cheek reassuringly until he felt some of the tension leach out of the other man. Gavin gave him a small smile, and Ray smiled back.

Then they felt it - a sudden uneasiness in the air, making the hair rise on the back of Ray’s neck. He saw the look on Gavin’s face shift in an instant, confusion spreading across his features.

“What the fuck?” Jack cried, over by the door.

The red light in the room was suddenly replaced by a wash of bright gold, like the sun had finally risen. Ray scrambled to his feet, Gavin helping him up, and they rushed to the door and looked out.

Bright rays of light were stretching across the sky. They stared out, cramming to look, Ray pressed close by Jack’s side as he peered out from under his arm. He could feel how tense the other man had gone against him.

“The fuck,” Jack repeated, and glanced at the others for answers. No one had any, but after a moment Gavin shook himself.

“That light,” he began, uncertainly. “The same thing appeared when we opened our portal.”

“Yes, but yours came from another direction,” Weisheng pointed out. “I remember seeing it from here in the city and it definitely came from beyond the front gates. This is coming from the opposite side of the Nether.” 

He pointed - indeed, the light was emanating from a single bright point beyond the back gates.

“Another portal?” Ray breathed, and a tense silence fell over them at the possibility. It hadn’t occurred to them, in all their planning, that anyone else might be trying to get here - especially at the same time as them.

“I’ll go investigate,” Jack said, and stepped back inside, leaning against the wall and tilting his head back, disappearing into the Sight.

Ray moved to stand beside him, chewing his lip thoughtfully. The light was making him uneasy, and the shift in magic in the air wasn’t helping. 

“Who else could possibly be coming through?” he asked.

Gavin turned away. There was a funny look on his face, and Ray didn’t miss it. He turned to him, reaching out and grabbing Gavin’s wrist.

“Hey,” he said, tugging gently until the other man turned to face him again. “What is it?”

Gavin opened his mouth, then hesitated.  
  
“I… I don’t know,” he replied, haltingly. “I don’t know for _sure_ , but…”

“But _what_?”

“It’s just a stupid feeling. I’m probably wrong. But Midas…”

“Midas?” Ray’s blood ran cold at the thought. He didn’t know much about the Gold king - no one did, not beyond the old legends and stories - but the Wither had come from _his_ portal, and so Ray had subconsciously started blaming him for Geoff’s death, and all the suffering that had gone along with it. Not to mention that the reason he was imprisoned in the first place was for being incredibly dangerous and apparently incredibly evil to match. They were going to have to deal with him eventually. He just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.

“It might not even be him,” Gavin replied, quickly. “I just - can’t shake a weird feeling about it. I mean, he’s clearly interested in leaving the End, and even if he can’t get a portal to our world… maybe he’s come through here. I don’t know.”

He tugged his wrist free and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about?” Weisheng demanded. Apparently Geoff hadn’t filled him in on the entire story of what’d happened in the Wild. “What’s this about Midas?”

“Long story that I’d rather not tell right now,” Gavin said, and sighed. “Suffice to say, there’s a very angry man with a very powerful gift trapped in another world. I just - have a feeling he’s after us. I dream about him a lot.”

He muttered this last part so softly that it was barely audible. Ray bit his lip and reached out, slipping an arm around Gavin’s shoulders and tugging him closer. At that moment, Jack shot upright with a gasp.

“We have a big problem,” he said. He looked pale and nervous, and Ray reached out to steady him.

“What is it?”

“You’re right, another portal’s opened - in the ground some distance beyond the city. An army has emerged and is headed directly for us.”

“An army?” Ray demanded. “What sort of army?”

“They… they look like Wither skeletons, but they’re all dressed in golden armour,” Jack said, and Ray saw Gavin’s face go white. He turned away again, trembling. “They were still pouring out of the portal when I stopped looking. There had to be hundreds of them.”

“Midas,” Weisheng said, and Jack nodded.

“It… it’s looking like it.”

“But no sign of the man himself?” Ray demanded, but Jack shook his head.

“That’s not to say he isn’t going to come out after the rest of them. The last thing we want is another encounter with the Wither - and we definitely don’t want them following us back to our world through the portal. We need to get out of here, _now.”_

“What the hell would Midas be doing _here_?” Weisheng asked, still seeming spectacularly befuddled. “This place is a shithole. There’s nothing here for _anyone_.”

“Us,” Gavin said, and they all turned to look at him. He was staring out the open doorway, fists clenched. “He’s been alive for literally thousands of years. What are the odds of him choosing to invade the Nether at exactly the same time as we’re here? He’s after _us._ He has to be.”

Jack stared at him for a moment, then reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Gavin tensed, but didn’t pull away.

“I’m going to go and find Michael and the others,” Jack announced. “We can’t waste time, so if they aren’t on their way here right this second, I’ll tell them to meet us back at the door. Geoff should be able to get the others there. We need to be at that portal to close it if the Wither start getting too close.”

Ray nodded, and Jack’s eyes turned white again. With a disgruntled noise, Weisheng hurried to pack up the medical supplies and the rest of their belongings.

Gavin was still staring out the door, and the sight of him with his shoulders hunched up and his face drawn and upset made a hard, nervous knot clench in Ray’s stomach. 

“Hey,” he said, moving up by Gavin’s side. “It’ll be okay. He doesn’t know where we are.”

“Back when he spoke to me through the portal,” Gavin replied, voice quiet and tight, “He said something weird.”

“He’s a supposed god who lived millennia ago. Anything he said was bound to be _weird_.” Ray had aimed to lighten the mood, but Gavin didn’t so much as smile.

“I couldn’t feel him,” he said. “But he told me that _he_ was connected to the tower, too. That he could feel our bond.”

Ray’s eyes widened. It was different with Geoff, he trusted Geoff. But the thought of someone else… listening in, someone they didn’t know and couldn’t feel themselves - it was horrifying, felt like a violation of something deeply intimate.

“Definitely weird,” was all he managed to say, so stunned he wasn’t sure quite how to react. “So if he’s here…”

“He could be _here_ , too,” Gavin said, and touched his own chest lightly, then Ray’s. Ray flinched, and shuddered heavily.

“But you,” Gavin said, and turned to Weisheng with a frown. “You can’t feel _anything?”_

“Not a damn thing,” Weisheng replied, still sounding rather confused.

At that moment, Jack stirred beside them. He looked worried, and Ray turned to him.

“What is it?” he asked. “Where are they? Are they alright?” After that initial flash of panic from Ryan, all feelings had subsided.

“They’re hiding out in another building nearby. They weren’t sure what was going on when the golden light appeared. Geoff’s with them,” he continued, “And Ryan’s injured, but it looks like they left Tamora behind after she turned on them.”

“Son of a bitch,” Weisheng muttered.

“No, Ryan’s the son of a bitch,” Gavin replied - he looked concerned, but after a moment he shook himself. “Okay. Are they close enough to get to us?”

“No. It’ll be faster for them to leave through the mines, Geoff said. They’ll meet us at the door; Ryan knows the way.”

“Where’s Tamora now?” Weisheng demanded, and Ray remembered abruptly that he was relying on her to get out of here. Unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the priority right now; they needed to leave before their mortal bodies could get hurt.

“Don’t know. In the city somewhere - it’s all destroyed down that end, and Midas’ army is only getting closer. We need to leave, _now_.” Jack was already heading for the door; with uncharacteristic utilitarianism, he turned to Weisheng and shook his head. “We’re not going back for Tamora, and I don’t know her plans. If you come with us you can take your chances just stepping through the door normally, but that’s all we can do for you. Sorry.”

“Saw this coming, to be honest,” Weisheng said, and shrugged, shoulders hunching up. “Might as well tag along. I don’t fancy the thought of being here when the Overlord gets back, and like fuck I wanna be around if this Midas figure’s on the way. Doesn’t sound like a fun time.”

“Then let’s go.” Jack turned to Ray and Gavin, and gave a small smile. “I’ll keep an eye on the others as we go. It’s time to get home.”

 

* * *

 

Fuelled by potions of speed, they travelled quickly out of the city and back through the barrens towards the door. Now and then they passed escaped souls from the city - some running to some unknown destination, some cowering and hiding in caves and holes.

“The doors that lead to Eternity,” Weisheng said, as they ran. “They’re located in every city the Overlord’s built around the land. People will be trying to get to them, to escape. There’s one in every fortress he builds, but he guards them closely. Won’t let people through until he’s done with them.”

Ray nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment as he imagined his parents, worn down and drained, but finally standing in front of a door of glowing light - holding hands, stepping through together. Passing finally into a forever peace. The thought made his throat choke up, but it didn’t upset him so much as relieve him.

_They got out of here. All that happened, it’s in the past. And soon we’ll get Geoff out of here, too._

They continued to hurry on. Ray was worried about the others, but he knew they were taking a different route across the landscape, and he couldn’t feel them in any danger through the bond. It was hard to travel, now, as the ground was dotted with the enormous craters that the Overlord had created overnight, and they regularly had to stop and get their bearings again. Still - Jack knew where he was going.

They were hurrying across a narrow passage of land between two chasms when Gavin suddenly stopped.

“Midas,” was all he said, but that single word was enough to make Ray’s stomach drop. Gavin had turned to look behind them and was pointing back towards the city. 

Even from this distance, he could see the glimmering gold of the soldiers’ armour. From this far he couldn’t tell that they were Wither skeletons, could only see the glinting metal. For a moment he froze, transfixed.

He’d seen a lot of gold in his life. You tended to, when you were a king, and he supposed he’d become desensitised. But something about the sight of the creatures, decked out from head to toe in that shimmering armour…

It was beautiful. It made something stir in his chest, the sight of them shining like a procession of stars as they picked their way across the red landscape. For a moment, he could see why people went mad over the stuff. Killed for it, even.

“There,” Gavin repeated, and Ray noticed that at the back of the party was one figure - larger and taller than the others. The Wither were slight figures, nothing but bones. The one marching along a head taller than them was clearly not a skeleton, but a man.

From this distance he couldn’t make out Midas’ features. He was little more than a slightly bigger dot among the rest of them. But he watched them descend upon the city, pouring through one of the holes blown in the wall by the Ghast, and after a moment black, shadowy figures pushed back to meet them. The Overlord had clearly returned to the city and created more of his soldiers to fight back.

“Do you think he wants to kill the Overlord?” Ray asked.

No one had a response, but they hurried along faster, leaving the city behind them.

 

* * *

 

Ray had expected all the conflict between the Overlord and Midas’ army to take place back at the city. But when they paused again, ducked back against the side of one of the red mountains for Jack to check their progress - he returned with a frown.

“There are more Wither emerging from the portal,” he explained, “And the Overlord’s sending more and more magic to deal with it. They’re not all headed straight for the city. Some of them are spreading out around the landscape, including this area.”

“He won’t have much magic left,” Weisheng muttered. “He’ll run out, with the furnace blocked.”

“The problem is, they’re up ahead of us,” Jack explained. “Looks like they were trying to loop around and attack the city from the other side. More Wither, and a lot of them. They’re blocking the way we need to go.”

“So we go around,” Gavin said with a shrug, but Ray bit his lip, uneasy.

The Wither had been hard enough to push back when they had an army on their side, including all of Gavin’s mobs and Ryan’s golems. There were still two Endermen trailing behind them, but aside from that, they were horribly outnumbered, if the sight of Midas’ golden army in the distance had been anything to go by.

They emerged from around the mountain only to pause.

The Overlord had collapsed a significant portion of the cliff where the cave containing the door was. Now crumbled piles of rubble left only a single trail open that wound around the mountainside and up towards the cavern. The path was quite clear - but it was blocked by a number of the Overlord’s shadow creatures, fighting with Midas’ Wither. The Wither had blades, but the shadows were more nimble.

Ray flinched as he watched one of the Wither stab a black figure in the gut. It dissipated with a loud hissing noise and a cloud of smoke, and a shiver ran down his spine. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of the poisoned wounds the Wither had inflicted on Geoff and the other soldiers. The slow, painful demise as the infection spread. His fists clenched, and Jack, next to him, must’ve noticed how he’d stiffened. He put a hand on Ray’s shoulder, rubbing his arm briefly.

“There’s no way to get past,” Gavin realised. His eyes flicked all over the place, looking for a way around. The only other pathway in the trail led into what looked like another section of the cliff that had opened up when the Overlord exploded the mountain; a deep alcove, blocked mostly by rocks. Through the opening that did remain, Ray could see flashes of flickering red.

“Lava,” he said, and remembered Ryan’s drawing, the streams of fire and waterfalls of lava. 

“Seems like an efficient way to kill something,” Weisheng commented, and they all turned to him.

“You’re right,” Gavin said. “But how to get them in there…”

Ray bit his lip, trying to come up with some plan that didn’t get them all killed - but a moment later, Weisheng took a deep breath.

“I’ve seen those ravines before. They’re filled with lava and there is little way around them. If you go in there you’re likely to get surrounded with nowhere to go. To fight those creatures, you need space - space to fight and retreat when need be. Lava’s the fastest way to kill those, but not practical for a mortal.”

“You got a better plan?” Jack asked, and to their surprise, Weisheng nodded.

“Yes. You hide back here. I emerge and draw those creatures in there. Once they’ve chased me in, Gavin gets the Endermen to collapse the entrance behind me. They’ll be trapped, probably mostly killed in the lava. You take the chance to get to the cave.”

Ray stared at him.

“You’ll be trapped, too!” he pointed out.

“I can’t die,” Weisheng said, and gave a tight smile. “I’ll get out somehow. Go through your door if it’s still open. If it’s not, I’ll find one of those Eternity doors, maybe.”

A grim silence fell. There was no time and few other options; as they processed this idea, Midas’ army slowly began to vanquish the rest of the Overlord’s creatures. The Wither were clearly the superior soldiers, and Ray didn’t fancy the thought of having to go blade to blade with them again.

Finally, Gavin nodded.

“I’m sorry you can’t come with us,” he said quietly, and Weisheng just gave an awkward shrug.

Jack still seemed taken aback.

“You’d do that for us?” he asked. “Why?”

Weisheng’s eyes flicked past them to where one golden-clad skeleton was pulling its sword from the last creature’s body. It crumbled away into more black dust, and an odd, uneasy look passed across his face.

“Midas is coming,” he murmured. “To this world, to yours. That means more fighting.”

_I’m tired._ The unspoken words hung between them, and Ray bit his lip. Weisheng had known about Midas for less than a day and he was already opting out of having anything to do with it. He didn’t say any more - just turned and grasped Gavin’s arm suddenly.

“Robin,” he said, and Gavin gave him a confused look. Weisheng let out a little huff of laughter. “That’s his name. The thief guy, the one who took the crown and ruled in the Wild for a while. It just came back to me. I can’t for the life of me remember what the Bandit queen was called - but the thief, the one who killed her and took the Wild crown? He was called Robin.”

Gavin stared at him, eyes wide. He didn’t seem to quite know what to say, and Weisheng gave an awkward shrug.

“Figured it might help you if you keep asking around. More specific question and all that.”

Gavin swallowed, and the look on his face was suddenly far too vulnerable.

“Thanks,” he said, and abruptly pulled Weisheng into a brief, tight hug. Weisheng made a surprised noise, then laughed again. He patted Gavin on the back, gave the rest of them a smile and wave, and then took a deep breath and ran out onto the trail.

The Wither turned as soon as they saw someone new approaching. They raised their swords, turning and striding towards him.

“Hey!” Weisheng called out, waving his arms until all of them were looking at him. “Catch me if you can!”

He turned and pelted towards the alcove’s opening, vanishing into the rocky space. The Wither streamed after him, disappearing one at a time, and as soon as the last slipped through Gavin pointed at the top of the cliff. The Endermen teleported up there, and Ray watched as they grabbed rocks and boulders, teleporting away with them until the cliff began to crumble, rubble and rock raining down to fill the opening until a mini landslide blocked off the entrance.

“What will happen to him?” Ray couldn’t help asking. He wasn’t sad - he’d barely known the Wild king, after all - so much as he was exhausted with how many sacrifices had been made.

Gavin turned to him. He looked pensive and strained, clearly as ready to get the fuck out of here as Ray was.

“They can’t kill him,” he pointed out. “He’ll lure them into the lava and destroy them. If he falls in himself, I don’t know - maybe an injury that bad would make him pass on to Eternity anyway. Or maybe he’ll get out and find the door. Who knows.”

“Noble of him to offer to help,” Jack commented, and Gavin cast him a sidelong glance.

“Even thieves have honour,” he said, a funny, tight note in his voice. His face softened when Jack reached out and squeezed his arm, a look passing between them too quickly for Ray to catch.

“I know,” Jack replied. “Well, let’s not waste the chance he gave us.”

Ray nodded. He took a deep breath and looked along the trail; with the Wither gone, there was a clear path leading up to the cavern they’d first arrived in.

“Right,” he said. “The door’s just up ahead. We’re nearly home.”

 

* * *

 

Geoff tapped his foot impatiently as he peered out the door of the building they were hidden in. Half the roof had collapsed already, sending red light spilling into the otherwise empty space, but even that proved no escape route.

The Overlord had returned to the area of the city they were in before they could get back to the others, and in desperation they’d hidden in here. Now the demon himself was outside, fighting with Midas’ soldiers that had descended upon the city. He was currently roaring with anger and beating at the sealed furnace door down the road.

Tamora had disappeared at some point in all the commotion. There were so many Wither in the streets - the Overlord having to turn every few minutes to fend them off - that Geoff assumed she had crawled away to hide under some rock as well.

“Is he looking for us?” Michael asked, coming up next to him.

Geoff turned to him, and shook his head.

“He seems to think we’ve escaped with everyone else. Probably more worried about these new invaders.”

He turned away from the door and walked over to Ryan, who sat on part of the caved in roof. The other man looked up at him as he approached, and Geoff’s heart clenched a little. Ryan looked like shit; his face was covered in grime and dried blood, his eyes red and dark bruises blossoming along his face and throat. There was a horrible, deep red line around his neck where Tamora had strangled him, and it made his blood boil just to look at it.

“Are you able to move if we have to make a run for it?” he asked quietly, sitting beside him.

Ryan gave a little scoff. His voice was still ragged when he spoke, painful just to listen to.

“She didn’t injure my legs,” he said, and Geoff’s lips twitched.

“Glad she didn’t injure your attitude, too. Still - looks like she did quite a number on you.”

He couldn’t help reaching up and touching Ryan’s shoulder, then the side of his neck. The other man didn’t flinch away. Still - there was something hesitant in Geoff’s motions, still quite unsure.

He and Ryan had only very recently reconciled when he died. But after six months spent hanging around with his _mother_ , Geoff felt somehow far closer to him. Maybe it was stupid, and maybe it wasn’t at all mutual - but Ryan didn’t flinch away, or slap his hand off like he once might’ve. He just stared at Geoff - then, abruptly, reached out and took hold of Geoff’s arm. Instead of shoving it away, he turned it over in his hand and then gently traced a finger over the rough scars stretching up and down his arm - injuries from the mines, and the Overlord’s whip.

“Are _you_ okay?” Ryan asked. The question took Geoff aback, and he stared stupidly. Ryan let his arm fall before adding, “Six months here…”

Geoff swallowed. The amount of time that passed hadn’t quite hit him until he saw all the others. Ray and Michael had looked really different - _all_ of them did. A lot had changed in their world, even if things in the Nether remained painfully stagnant.

“It’s not my real body,” he managed to say.  
  
“Pain is pain, whatever world it happens in,” Ryan replied, and Geoff bit his lip, a lump suddenly rising in his throat.

“It wasn’t fun,” he managed, and gave a humourless laugh, clasping his hands together in his lap. “I clung to the thought of getting back to… to Jack, and Gav. To _all_ of you. But I never imagined _you’d_ be the ones to realise I wasn’t gone yet, and come to get me. So thank you, Ryan. Thank you for thinking to preserve my body. Thank you for helping to come and find me. The Stone kingdom owed me nothing.”

“There was no question I’d help,” Ryan replied, immediately. Then seemed a bit embarrassed, and amended, “That we’d _all_ help.”

Michael turned away from the door and walked over to them, and Geoff reached out and took his arm as he got close. Since he rescued Ryan from Tamora, everything had been such a whirlwind that it was only just hitting him now that he’d finally been reunited with _all_ the others.

“Hey,” he said, and tugged Michael to sit down on his other side. “Jack was telling me that you got hurt pretty badly while I was down here.”

Michael just shrugged and grinned, though Geoff noticed he’d sat close enough that their elbows touched and didn’t seem inclined to move away. He didn’t mind.

“I’m fine now,” he informed Geoff. “You know me. I’m one tough egg.”

‘Tough _egg?’_ Ryan mouthed beside him, in confusion, and Geoff couldn’t help but bark out a laugh. God, he’d missed this - the two of them, and all the others, and how easily they all seemed to fit together. Even now he wasn’t scared of getting out; not with these two by his side. Michael’s strength, Ryan’s smarts.

“All of you,” he repeated, and glanced between them. “You didn’t give up on me, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am. I knew Jack wouldn’t - Gavin, too - but the rest of you… especially you and Ray,” he added, turning to Michael again. “You knew us the least but you still didn’t hesitate to risk your own lives - and your kingdoms’ stability - to come after me here.”

“You died to save me,” Michael murmured, “It was the least I could do.”

“Michael.” Geoff put a hand on his shoulder, staring at him intently. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” Michael assured him, and smiled. “But I still owed you one.”

Geoff stared at him a moment longer, but there was no guilt in his face. If anything, Gavin had looked guiltier when Geoff was talking to him. He trusted Michael - he wasn’t the sort to lie, or hide things - and after a moment they smiled and nodded at one another. He squeezed Michael’s shoulder, then turned back to Ryan.

The other man was staring pensively out the door, and Geoff thought again of the scene he’d walked in on. He’d known Tamora was evil, but attempting to murder her own _son_ … maybe it  was Geoff’s inability to even remotely empathise with how someone could so much as think about doing that, but he’d never imagined she’d actually try to. And even now, he couldn’t imagine what Ryan must be feeling.

The other man abhorred pity, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but feel terribly sorry for him.

“What happened with Tamora,” he began, and _saw_ Ryan close off immediately, face shuttering over as he turned towards them. Geoff saw Michael, beside him, look almost disappointed. He was, too - had thought that maybe Ryan would open up to them, was _ready_ for that. Then again, it had been six months, and from what he’d heard Michael hadn’t seen Ryan much during that time, either. _Don’t get ahead of yourself._

“It doesn’t matter,” Ryan said. His voice was low and firm. Then he added, viciously, “Leave the bitch behind.”

“That’s the spirit,” Michael replied, and their eyes met, something passing between them that Geoff couldn’t figure out.

He frowned, but before he could answer he heard a commotion outside, and jumped up, rushing to the door again and peering out.

Through the remains of the city, he could see golden armour marching towards them. He ducked back into the doorway, and watched as row after row of Wither skeletons marched by. There had to be at least three or four dozen of them. They trudged along, heading for the Overlord, who as Geoff watched saw them coming and turned with a curse. He shot back into the air, flying off towards the front of the city, now.

“He’s running away?” Michael muttered, coming up to look over Geoff’s shoulder.

“No, he’s heading for an area where the buildings aren’t as destroyed. It’ll make it easier for him to fight so many Wither…”

Geoff trailed off as the Wither turned to follow the Overlord to this new location, and he finally caught a glimpse of Midas himself. He was bringing up the rear of the army and although Geoff only saw his back as he turned, the man was impossible to miss. He was a tall figure, broad shouldered and imposing, and his armour shone the brightest of all of them. It was not only golden but ornate; the most notable feature a Centurion’s helmet decked out with a burst of bright red feathers. His shoulder plates curved up at the edges and a series of spines extended down his back, reminding Geoff suddenly of the dragon he’d fought back at the Plains. It was impressive, sure, though he wasn’t quite convinced of its practicality. Delicate patterns were carved into each golden piece.

“Shit, that’s him,” Michael hissed, and Geoff could only nod, gaze fixed on the figure.

It was strange laying eyes on someone he’d thought to be nothing but a legend, a bedtime story, for such a long time. Even odder was the knowledge that Midas was literally thousands of years old. Even without seeing the man’s face, something about him sent a shiver down Geoff’s spine. This was the man so dangerous that the Endermen had teamed up with humans to take him down - had torn the tower apart and reshaped the land just to get rid of him.

“He’s going to fight the Overlord,” Michael continued, and pulled a face. “You reckon he’ll win?”

“No clue. The Overlord’s powerful. I never thought anything could defeat him, even someone with a gift. Then again, we don’t know what Midas is capable of.”

“They’re leaving. He’s chasing the Overlord. Now’s our chance,” Michael said, and ushered Geoff out the door. “Go, go, go!”

Geoff turned and beckoned Ryan, who rose and hurried towards them. They got out into the street, turning in time to see the Overlord materialise in the sky in the distance, hovering in the air, preparing to fight Midas. He was floating over the front gate now, in the part of the city still standing, spared from the Ghasts’ attacks. The army rushed down the main road to meet them, and Michael tugged Geoff back towards the mines and their escape route.

“Wait!” Ryan called suddenly. Geoff turned back to find him lingering by the front door, staring down the street towards the battle about to take place.

“What the fuck, Ryan, we don’t have time-”

“I want to see what happens,” Ryan said.

“Are you fucking _serious_?” Geoff cried, but the look Ryan gave him indicated that he was, in fact, quite fucking serious. “ _Why_?”

“Let’s call it scientific curiosity,” Ryan said. Geoff stared, but Ryan pointed impatiently in the direction the others had gone. “Either the Overlord will kill Midas or vice versa. I’d rather like to know which of the two of them are still around when it’s all over. Lets us know what the hell we’re still up against.”

“He has a point,” Michael began, and Geoff bit his lip.

After six months in this gods forsaken place, he had no desire to stick around any longer - especially not with two others who could actually be permanently harmed in here. But he could tell they wouldn’t be budged, and he threw his hands up.

“Fine, we’ll have a quick look - but we keep our distance and the second things look dangerous, we’re out of here!”

 

* * *

 

There were still so many intact buildings on that side of the city that it wasn’t difficult for them to find a good place to hide. Having climbed the rubble to hide on the roof of one of said buildings, they had an excellent vantage point of the wall and the land beyond. Midas and his Wither were climbing the staircase up to the top of the wall, and fanned out in a long line, bows raised, just as they flattened themselves against the roof to watch.

The Overlord was hovering above them. He had his whip in one hand, but given how desperate he’d been to get into the furnace just now, Geoff was willing to bet he was running low on magic.

“Midas!” he roared, and began to laugh as the man himself strode towards him. The wall was high enough that despite the Overlord’s levitation, they were face to face. “Now there’s someone I never thought I’d see. You’ve been practically immortal since they threw you into the End.”

“The Overlord,” Midas replied, pleasantly. His voice was booming and loud without the mental echo that the Overlord’s had, tinged with a faint accent that Geoff couldn’t place. It was strange to hear him speak. “I’ve read about you.”

“You’ve _read about me?”_ the Overlord demanded. “Who the fuck is _writing_ about me?”

“There is knowledge, in the End,” Midas replied, and tilted his head. “About _every_ domain.”

Michael leaned in close to Geoff. When he whispered his warm breath tickled at his ear.

“That’s pretty fucking ominous. Sounds like he found a way to make a door too. And if he could make one to here…”

“He could make one to our world, too,” Geoff hissed back. He stared worriedly at the back of Midas’ head; the man still hadn’t turned in such a way that they could see his face.

“Why are you here?” the Overlord asked, and Midas clasped his hands behind his back, lifting his head up to look at the demon. He didn’t seem afraid at all, and it made Geoff uneasy. His Wither soldiers had dispatched of the Overlord’s shadow army so easily that it was almost embarrassing, and Geoff had never seen anyone who wasn’t intimidated by the Overlord and his magic before. It didn’t bode well for the rest of them that Midas was so confident in his own abilities that he wasn’t so much as nervous.

“I’m looking for something,” Midas replied, and tilted his head. “Well. Someone.”

“From your previous world,” the Overlord deduced, and Geoff saw Midas nod firmly before looking around. Geoff craned his neck, but still didn’t catch a glimpse of his face.

“Where is the Wild King?” he asked, and Geoff felt Michael and Ryan stiffen beside him. His own heart had begun to pound, a cold dream covering him.

_The Wild King? What the fuck could Midas want with_ Gavin?

“Shit,” Ryan whispered next to him, and Geoff turned to him.

“Why does he want Gav?” he asked, furiously, and Ryan turned to him, eyes dark and worried.

“He spoke to Gavin. Before, in the Wild, when we were closing the portal. And again, when you were injured. That was how we learned about the Nether - he mentioned it to him.”

“Fuck,” was all Geoff could say.

“Weisheng?” the Overlord demanded, not quite as clued in. “He’s gone. He ran away, somewhere out there,” he flung out one enormous arm, gesturing at the wasteland behind him. “Feel free to take the little rat. It’s past his time, anyway.”

“Not Weisheng,” Midas replied, and stepped forward, leaning in close.

Whatever he said, they didn’t catch it, but the Overlord’s eyes widened in surprise.

“He’s looking for Gav, he has to be,” Ryan hissed again, and Michael grunted. His fists were clenched where he was resting on his elbows.

“Gavin’s been having dreams about him,” he grunted. He already looked furious, as though he was debating jumping up and launching himself at Midas right this second.

“Or were they dreams?” Ryan mused suddenly.

Geoff turned to him, opening his mouth to ask what he meant, but before he could say a word, the Overlord laughed again, and shook his head.

“Sorry, but you’re shit out of luck,” he replied. “He passed on _long_ ago. There’s no way to get him back. Eternity is, well. Eternity.”

They exchanged confused looks. _Passed on?_ Could he not be talking about Gavin after all?

Midas seemed annoyed. He began to pace up and down along the wall, the Overlord’s head turning to follow him. His arms hung at his sides, the whip in one hand, but he made no move to raise it. If anything, Geoff figured he seemed almost scared. Somehow that was the most terrifying thing of all; the Overlord was all powerful, an omniscient, omnipotent creature who was squarely in charge of this entire land. Nothing rattled him, especially not here in his own home, and he was more than twice the size of Midas. Yet now he quailed, like an elephant before a mouse.

“Well then,” Midas said, and stared out around the landscape. At one point he turned in their direction, and they scrambled to press themselves down against the roof. By the time Geoff looked up again, all he caught was a flash of Midas’ golden helmet as he turned away once more. “In any case, I think the Nether might be a useful place to… set up shop, so to speak. You have certain _resources_ here that I could put to use.”

“Excuse me?” The Overlord drew himself up to his full height. _Now_ he seemed angry, eyes flashing as he raised his whip and cracked it by his side. A deafening crack of thunder rang out at the same time as flecks of fire spat down to the ground below. “You think you can just come in here and _take over?_ ”

“That’s exactly what I think. The question is how much of a fuss you’ll kick up. I warn you, it won’t be of any use.”

In response, the Overlord lashed out with his whip again. It curled around the waist of the nearest Wither and flung it off the wall.

Midas seemed unfazed; he just took a step back, neatly out of range of the wave of fire the Overlord breathed across the wall as he roared in fury. The Wither were apparently not flammable; they raised their bows despite the flames and fired a volley of arrows from all along the wall.

The Overlord raised his arms to defend himself, but these were no mortal arrows. They thudded into his flesh and he screamed in pain - he drew Michael’s sword, and Geoff heard the Alpine king make a furious noise, but when he brought it down towards Midas, the man drew a shimmering gold sword in return. The blades met with a _clash_ and a volley of sparks.

Screeching with rage, the Overlord’s long, flaming tongue lashed towards Midas, only for a Wither to lunge from the side and slice it clean off with one swing of its sword. Screaming in pain, the Overlord flew backwards, lashing out with his whip again, but his aim was disrupted by another volley of arrows. Midas strode forward, undaunted, and the Overlord lashed out again. The next sweep of his whip took out half a dozen of the Wither, but the others surged forward. They leaped off the wall and landed on the Overlord, clinging to him like leeches, their black blades flashing as they plunged them in and out of his body.

He fell from the sky and crumbled to one knee, swatting frantically at the creatures all over his body. The _crash!_ as he landed rattled the entire landscape, including the building they were on.

Geoff could only watch, transfixed. The ease with which such a mighty creature had fallen frightened him, but he couldn’t look away. The Overlord burst into flames, and _now_ most of the Wither fell away - but he couldn’t get to his feet.

Midas was standing at the edge of the wall, legs planted apart like a soldier, sword in one hand, staring down at him. The Overlord drew his arm up painfully, and with a final cry of anger lashed the whip directly towards him-

Midas didn’t move.

He raised one hand and calmly _caught_ the whip. Before their eyes it began to turn into gold, spreading from his palm and down the length of the weapon, freezing it slowly. Eyes huge, the Overlord watched, too - and as the gold spread from the whip to his own hand, and then along his arm, he began to scream, animalistic screeches of pure agony.

“Holy shit,” Michael whispered next to Geoff, who could only watch in horror.

The cries echoed through the landscape. Thunder rumbled in the sky, then great flashes of lightning, searing down and striking the cliffs in the distance, sending some of them crumbling to the ground. The Overlord writhed, but couldn’t pull free as the metal spread up his shoulder, then along his neck and towards the rest of his body. His screams cut off as his throat, then his head turned to nothing but solid gold too, until finally he fell still - nothing but a contorted mass of metal, a mere statue of a demon, the red light glinting off his shining form.

Geoff could only stare, horrified. _What the actual fuck - is he dead? Can he even be killed?_

Midas stood calmly. He hadn’t moved through the entire ordeal, but now, now he began to slowly lower his hand.

“Go!” Michael hissed then. “Go, go, go, he’s _won_ , we need to leave right the fuck _now_.”

Geoff wasn’t about to argue, and Ryan wasn’t either. He was staring at Midas, stunned but intrigued, and Geoff grabbed his arm and hauled him along. They scrambled off the roof, hearts pounding, fixed now on nothing but getting the hell out of this city and to the door.

 

* * *

 

Gavin tapped his foot impatiently as he waited by the door. Luckily the cave-in hadn’t damaged it, and the shimmering purple rectangle was still there, embedded in the wall, inviting and magical. He was growing anxious, his stomach churning more and more with every passing moment.

The knowledge that Midas was physically here in the world with them had him antsy. He felt as though he was being watched, every moment that passed, like there was a lurking sense of _danger_. He thought this must’ve been how the others used to feel when they entered the untamed Wild.

Jack was sitting next to him, eyes cast over white. Gavin leaned against his side, pressing closer to him for a brief moment. Now that Jack wasn’t actually _here_ , was away in the Sight, he felt okay with letting himself take comfort in him.

When Jack returned with a jolt, Gavin quickly shifted away.

“What is it?” he asked.

“They’re almost here,” Jack replied.

As if on cue, the other three burst in through the cavern entrance. They were puffing and out of breath, and had clearly run here as fast as they could - but the moment they entered, Gavin couldn’t help the wide smile that broke out over his face. The six of them, finally all in the same room again - it was a moment he’d been waiting so long for, and now that it was finally here, it felt a little unreal. He and Ray rushed forward - Ray seized Michael’s hands, checking him over for injury; Gavin turned to Ryan.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and reached up, touching the side of Ryan’s neck where a dark laceration ran around his throat. He’d been worried when he felt Ryan’s panic and pain through the bond.

“I’m fine,” Ryan replied. His voice was curt, but a moment later he let his hand fall to Gavin’s shoulder and leaned in, pulling him into something like a loose hug as he murmured in his ear, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Gavin nodded. He pressed his face against Ryan’s shoulder for a moment, and when he pulled apart Geoff was watching them. Gavin turned to him next. He still felt a little shy with the other man, uncertain about the way their new relationship had come about - but he reached out, now, and took Geoff’s hand.

“Ready to go home?” he asked, and Geoff threw his head back and laughed.

“Hell fucking yes. Can’t get out of this place fast enough.”

“Well, we have no time to waste,” Jack piped up, rising and ushering them towards the door. “Midas is right on your heels.”

“What? He followed us here?” Geoff asked, incredulously.

“He must’ve seen you leave the city.” Jack’s voice was worried, but he stayed quite calm, which Gavin was grateful for, steering them all to get in a line facing the door.

“Or sensed it,” Gavin murmured, and exchanged a glance with Ray. The other man looked back at him, grimly.

“Either way, we need to get back home and close the portal, _now_ ,” Jack said. He gestured at the door. “This should take us back to the one in the Alps that we came through. Once the last of us is back, Ryan will de-activate it.”

Gavin stared at the surface of the door. His heart was pounding, knowing that one simple step through and they’d be back home, back in safety. Back together again, with Geoff, too. Soon. _Soon._ Some part of him was scared, scared of how he knew everything was going to change - but it was exhilarating, as well.

“Geoff,” he said, and turned to him. “You’ll return to your body in the Wild. Dan is waiting to break you free - we’ve got a constant watch on you. They’ll smash you out of the redstone and Jack will come in the Sight to make sure it all went well. We’ll figure out how to reunite from there - maybe you’ll go to the Alps, maybe we’ll come to you. In the meantime, my people will take care of you in the Wild.”

Geoff nodded, and Ryan turned to him as well.

“Your wound from the Wither should heal as your magic returns to your body,” he added. “Assuming my mother’s hypothesis about how it works is correct. She didn’t exactly get time to test it.”

His voice was tight and a little bitter, but no one commented.

“Okay,” Geoff replied. “Got it.”

Jack put a hand on Geoff’s shoulder, steering him towards the door.

“You go first,” he said, softly. That had always been the plan; to get Geoff out as soon as possible. As Geoff stared at the door, Gavin again felt that lurking fear - _what if it doesn’t work, what if he steps through and nothing happens, what if Dan doesn’t get him out in time…_

But it was stupid to worry about things he had no control over. _Don’t stir yourself up. It will work. It will work and then you won’t have to be scared about this again. The fear will be gone and you’ll all be_ together.

Geoff took a deep breath, and Gavin realised that he was scared, too. But he nodded, and turned to Jack, clasping him by the shoulders.

“See you soon,” he said softly, and leaned in to kiss him. Jack grasped his arms desperately, pulling him closer, a passionate kiss as though it could be their last. A lump rose in Gavin’s throat, and he could see that Jack’s eyes were red and teary when they pulled apart. Geoff turned to him next, and Gavin stepped forward.

It was still a little strange when their lips met; something he’d anticipated for so long and could finally have now. But the feeling of Geoff’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close, was comforting, and Geoff smiled at him when they pulled apart and reached up to cup his cheek.

“Don’t be scared,” he whispered. “It’ll all be fine.”

Gavin nodded, forcing a smile back. Geoff turned, saluted to all the others, and then strode through the portal before anyone else could get too worked up about it.

He vanished instantly, and the lack of the bond meant they couldn’t feel what had happened to him. But there was no time to waste, with Midas on their heels, so Gavin took a deep breath and began to usher the others through.

“Go, go,” he said, pushing Jack after him. The other man hurried through, eager to find out if Geoff was alright. Michael was next, then Ray. Finally, Ryan - who waited for a moment, gesturing for Gavin to go first. Gavin shook his head.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said.

Ryan looked worried, but nodded.

“Don’t delay,” he said, and squeezed Gavin’s hand before stepping through.

Gavin watched him vanish, and closed his eyes for a moment. Everything was too silent, and the absence of all the others in his head made him feel very alone. But it would only be for a minute; he sent his two remaining Endermen through the portal before going to the entrance of the cave and looking out.

There was no sign of Midas following them. He wasn’t quite sure why he almost felt disappointed; he feared finally encountering the man, but at the same time he almost felt like he wanted to. Like he needed the answers that it seemed like only Midas could provide. But the landscape below was empty - although the trail leading directly up to the cavern was concealed by the overhang of the ridge. Midas could be right under him, and it wouldn’t do to wait too long.

_Time to go home._

He turned back to the portal. The others would be waiting. Taking a deep breath, he moved to step forwards-

Only to cry out as something solid and metal hit him hard in the side and he crumpled over. It had gotten him right in the shoulder, a ferocious swing that had his entire arm and side aching, and had struck him with enough force to throw him away from the door.

“What the…”

Arm throbbing, he rolled over only to find Tamora standing over him, hefting a shovel in both hands. Her chest was heaving and she reminded him of nothing so much as a zombie; ragged and flaking away, spattered with blood and grime. There were three horrible puncture wounds in her abdomen, soaking her in blood. With the red light behind her, she looked horrifying, ichor dripping from her shirt and the end of the shovel as she advanced towards him.

“The fuck?” Gavin choked out. He scrambled backwards, nursing his arm, as she strode towards him.

“Not so clever now, are you, Wild king, without your mobs by your side?” she hissed. “I couldn’t kill Ryan, but I sure can hurt him by killing _you_ , hm?”

She must’ve followed the others out of the city, Gavin realised, and sprang to his feet as she stepped towards him again. She swiped the shovel at him, quick, vicious cutting motions, but he dodged it every time, weaving back and forth as he retreated deeper into the cave, rolling sideways when she hacked the blade towards him like it was an axe. The shovel was heavy, and he was light on his feet; he hadn’t forgotten his acrobatics, even with all the travel he’d been doing lately.

He drew his own knife, and sprang towards her as he own swing sent her wavering, off-balance. The dagger cut through her side, but she didn’t seem to care about the pain at all. She swung the shovel again and caught him in his injured arm; he yelled, pain flaring through his side, and in his moment of distraction she hit him again, hard, in the head.

Everything went black for a moment.

He felt his knife drop from his loose fingers and clatter to the ground as he fell back against the wall. His head was spinning, and when his vision returned everything was blurry. The side of his head burned and he could feel blood running down the side of his neck.

Tamora dropped the shovel, and stooped to pick up the knife instead. In an instant she was surging forward, stabbing towards him.

It felt like a punch to the stomach. He let out a wheezing gasp, hands grasping at her desperately to try and fend her off. The shock came first - then the pain; a slow, spreading fire through his gut. He looked down and through his blurry vision saw the knife buried in the side of his abdomen.

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-_

He was too dazed to quite register what was happening - but cried out again as she leaned against him, pressing him harder against the wall and twisting the knife in deeper.

“This is how you die, fool,” she breathed into his ear. “Alone in a cave, just like the previous Wild king. Both of you nothing but thieves.”

Gavin made a strangled noise, trying to push her off but failing. He was too weak, dazed and losing blood, the pain making it hard to focus.

“You can’t win,” Tamora hissed. “You can’t-”

She broke off with a choked cry, bubbling over into a scream of pain. Her hands fell away from the knife, and Gavin slumped back against the wall. It took him a moment to figure out what was happening; his vision was dancing with dark spots and fading at the edges, but he registered Tamora trying to twist around, but failing. She seemed unable to move, and as he watched, creeping gold spread from her back over her shoulders and across her chest. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating - but before his eyes, she slowly froze into a golden statue, head thrown back and screaming, eyes wide and shocked.

_Midas._

He fell back, flinching as he tried to scramble away, leaving a thick trail of blood behind him. His head hurt, his stomach, too, and his responses were slow and sluggish as he watched a figure clad in golden armour step from behind Tamora and turn towards him.

“No,” he tried to choke out, but blood bubbled from his lips and he broke off with a cough.

Midas stepped forward. He was wearing golden armour and a large helmet, but as he strode over to Gavin and stooped low over him, Gavin realised that he looked quite human underneath. He was dazed and unfocused, but he still registered with a vague confusion that Midas’ face was… _kind_ , almost. He looked a little different than he had in Gavin’s dreams; his face was chubbier, with round cheeks and full lips that turned up at the ends as though he was constantly smiling. But his eyes were the same, warm and brown with flecks of gold in them. There was something disarmingly soft to his features.

He stared at Gavin, a startled look on his face.

“He told me you were dead,” Midas said. His voice was familiar; Gavin had heard it through the portal, then in his dreams every night since. “That you had passed on.”

“What… who…” It hurt to talk, and Gavin’s voice was faint - then Midas’ confusion faded, and he straightened up with a slightly awkward laugh.

“Wait, you’re not Robin,” he said, and Gavin could only stare at him. He could barely focus - he was losing blood, and starting to feel cold, and every time Midas moved it made his head ache. “You feel like him. You _look_ like him. But you’re not him.”

Gavin had no idea what he was talking about, and he sure wasn’t in any state to wrap his head around it.

“We spoke,” he heard himself reply, voice so weak that Midas had to lean in again to hear. “Through the… the portal.”

“I remember,” Midas replied.

“Dreams,” Gavin whispered, dazed and unable to properly convey all his thoughts, his questions. “Have you been talking to me in my dreams…?”

There was such a long silence that for a moment he almost thought he might’ve passed out. But then Midas shifted, and Gavin jerked back to consciousness to find the other man staring at him with sheer confusion on his face.

“Um,” Midas said, and sounded awkward more than anything else. “No? What are you talking about?”

Gavin stared at him dumbly, and Midas reached out a hand. Gavin felt a surge of deja vu; it was like the ending of every nightmare he’d had.

“Shit, you’re hurt badly,” Midas said. “That does _not_ look good. Uh, you need treatment. Pretty fast. Come back to the End with me, I can help-”

“No,” Gavin began - _the others, I need the others, I can’t feel them, I need to get home-_

Before he could resist, Midas was pulling him upright. He heard a scream of pain and realised it had come from himself as the movement jostled his wounds; the next thing he knew he was slumped against Midas’ side. He was a big man, and supported Gavin easily, but Gavin squeezed his eyes shut and let the sharp pain bring him back to reality.

“ _No_ ,” he repeated, and squirmed in Midas’ grasp.

“We have much to discuss, Wild king,” Midas replied, holding onto him easily as he started to half-carry, half-drag him back towards the cave entrance. “I can save you.”

“I don’t need your help,” Gavin replied, and took a deep breath. Mustering all his strength, he twisted out from Midas’ arm, aiming to slip free of his grip rather than try and break it. He pulled away and flung himself back into the portal before Midas could stop him; Midas grabbed for his hand but it fell away.

“Wait!” he heard Midas cry, as the world began to fade. “I want to know about these dreams. Wild king - I meant what I said. I can help you. Come find me. You can cross worlds, come _find me_. The End portal is safe for you to travel through.”

His words were blurring together now, and he was vaguely worried that Midas would follow him back, but the other man didn’t move. As the Nether shimmered and faded away and he felt himself fall into the darkness between worlds, he barely caught the last thing the Gold king shouted after him.

“ _You look just like your father.”_

 

* * *

 

Snow. Hard ice against his bare skin, freezing everywhere it touched. Numbness, but also pain, pain in his stomach, his side, his shoulder. Gavin felt cold all over, but it wasn’t the chill of the Alpine air, it was the spreading ache in his whole body and how he couldn’t quite feel his fingers and toes. His eyes flickered open for a brief moment he saw only white and red - a lot of red.

They flared back to life in his mind, everyone - _including Geoff, Geoff - he’s safe._ It was a warm comfort to feel the other man settling neatly back into his mind, just as he had when Gavin first put on the crown. It felt like everything was right again.

_He’s home. We all are._

He forced his eyes open again. He couldn’t move, and realised he was lying on the ground. His vision was distorted, and it felt like he was looking at everything through a film of water. He saw the sky above them - it was evening, the sun setting, but more orange than the Nether’s crimson sky - and there were the others, looming worriedly over him. Strong, warm arms wrapped around him, and he heard voices calling his name, sounding oddly distant - “Gavin? Gavin!” - 

But he couldn’t focus on them. He instead thought of Geoff, clinging tightly to that rekindled strand of the bond, comforting in its familiarity - and let himself pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> miss-ingno has made a great [aesthetic set for Tamora](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/156390421264/miss-ingno-ryan-she-urged-i-really-am)! Thanks so much <3


	9. Chapter 9

Geoff’s eyes shot open.

His first thought was nothing but sheer _panic_. He was suffocating, gasping but getting no air in, and he tried to squirm free only to find himself cased in by something hard and tight, leaving him no room to budge an inch. He could see nothing but red - red like blood, red like the Nether sky.

He squeezed his eyes shut, gasping weakly, and when he opened them again he saw a blurry, dark figure beyond what he realised now was some sort of translucent red slab. The figure stared down at him, then disappeared for a moment. Fear spiked through Geoff’s chest - fear that he was about to die here, _again_ , that he’d be sent right back to the Nether - but a moment later they returned, raised something, and then brought it down onto the red surface with a resounding _crash!_

Geoff flinched. The blows continued, the entire structure shaking. He closed his eyes as crystalline shards rained down, then blessedly cool air hit his face and he sucked in a wheezing breath as bright light spilled down on him. _Sunlight_. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like. His face was clear now, and he saw the rest of the stone fall away, his blurred vision adjusting to the light - to his _body_.

When it finally cleared, he could’ve cried in relief. He’d never been so glad to see Dan’s fucking face in his life.

“Geoff?” the other man asked. He brought the pickaxe down one last time before scrabbling to pull the broken shards of what Geoff now realised was redstone away from him. “Geoff!”

Dan looked older too, now. He had a big beard and his hair was long enough that he had to push it back behind his ears as he bent over the tomb. There was no trace of the Plains soldier left in him, nothing but the Wild remained.

There were others behind him. Geoff’s head was foggy, and it took him a moment for him to vaguely recognise Griffon and Gus. Hands pulled him up, red shards falling away from his hair and clothes, and steadied him as he sat up in the tomb. His head was spinning; the last thing he remembered was his soul rushing across the landscape faster than light and back to his body, just as Tamora had said.

And now he was back home.

_Home_. He could almost cry as he began to register more things - green trees, the clear blue sky, the cool air against his skin. After the constant _heat_ of the Nether, it was a blissful relief. 

Still - he felt achy and stiff, like none of his muscles were working. He couldn’t move for a moment, everything tingling with pins and needles, and it was only Dan’s hands on his shoulders that kept him upright. He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing, and slowly tried to move his fingers. At first they’d only twitch - but then feeling crept slowly back into his limbs, and finally he could jerk his arms forward to pull his shirt up, frantically staring down at his torso.

None of the scars the Overlord had left him with were on this body; his skin was pale and unmarred - except for the wound that had killed him, but just as Ryan had said, that was fading, too, the Wither’s poison slowly draining away, leaving nothing but a thick scar.

“How do you feel?” Gus asked.

Geoff opened his mouth and tried to talk, but couldn’t - his voice was a nearly silent rasp, and it took a few tries before he could even get a sound out.

“Weak,” he whispered finally, and all of them leaned in to hear. “Tired. Like I’ve run a fucking race. But I’ll be okay. I’m alive,” he said, and started to laugh suddenly. “I’m _alive!”_

He couldn’t stop it, the hysterical, gleeful chuckles that shook his whole body. After a moment Dan started laughing too, and even Gus cracked a smile. Geoff felt tears leak from the corners of his eyes and couldn’t even be embarrassed. Being back in his physical body again, back _here_ with fresh air and the smell of spring and recent rain… even the Wild looked beautiful to him. He looked around and realised he was behind the Wild castle, in a redstone coffin of some sort. There were flowers around him, and the sight of red roses surrounding the grave made his heart tug.

_Ray_. It was a touching little gesture, and made something well up in his throat. He suddenly, acutely _missed_ the other man - even seeing him in the Nether hadn’t been enough. He couldn’t wait to spend more time together - with _all_ of them.

“Come on,” Dan said. He made to pull Geoff up out of the tomb, but as he reached out Geoff moved forward and hugged him instead. Dan made a surprised noise, but laughed and hugged him back.

“It’s good to see you again,” he said, and Geoff nodded against his shoulder.

“You too. I never said thank you, before I died.” He pulled back and looked at Dan seriously. “For taking care of Gavin. For sticking with him even when I banished you.”

“Water under the bridge,” Dan assured him, and tugged at him again. “Come on! Let’s get you a bath and something to eat.”

“Oh gods, _food_ ,” Geoff said - he hadn’t eaten in the Nether, hadn’t needed to, but just the thought of it made his mouth water now. It was something he hadn’t realised he missed so much, and his eyes lit up as something else came to him. “Oh! _Alcohol!”_

Gus burst out laughing. It was funny to see him so cheerful after how annoyed he’d been at all the other kings’ presence the last time they were in the Wild. Seemed like six months had changed _everybody_.

“We can fix you something,” he told Geoff, but his smile faded a moment later. “Actually, it’s good that you’ve come back. The other kings…”

“They’re all fine,” Geoff assured him. He could feel them in the bond - Gavin’s thread was weak, and he frowned, unsure why considering he’d been fine right before Geoff stepped through the door - but it was _stable,_ and not too big a cause for concern. “They’re all back in this world, I can feel them. I figure Jack will be visiting us as soon as he can.”

“Good,” Griffon said, gruffly, and Geoff looked up to realise she was frowning as well. “Just in fucking time.”

“Time for what?” Geoff asked, confused. 

“We were getting worried about you all being away any longer,” she said, and Geoff’s giddy joy faded slightly as he realised that, with the excitement of his return wearing off, some tension was seeping back in. Dan lifted him out of the tomb, supporting him as he emerged. He fell instantly, catching himself against the remaining piles of redstone, his legs wobbly.

The rest of Gavin’s little band was emerging from the castle now, coming to see what was going on, and Geoff realised suddenly that something was wrong, here. They were all wearing armour over their creeper-skin garments - Aaron and Chris held bows, Barbara had three knives at her belt… there was something tense to their bearing, as though they’d been poised for an attack.

“Cut me a fucking break,” he muttered - he’d been alive for about ten seconds and already something was going wrong?  
  
Two more people approached. They weren’t in green, and it took him a second to recognise them.

“Mica?” he demanded, his voice stronger now, loud enough that it carried to her.

_What the fuck is Ryan’s captain of the guard doing here?_ Mica wasn’t in her uniform, didn’t have her sword at her belt. Geoff realised it was Kerry trailing behind her, and stared in confusion. _Why are they out of the Stone city?_  
  
“King Ramsey,” Mica said as she approached. She bowed her head, briefly; it sent a weird jolt through Geoff. Under the Overlord’s subjugation he’d nearly forgotten how it felt to be a king.

“Mica,” he replied, and waved a hand for her to rise. “What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

“The last few days have been pretty… hectic,” she said. Her lips twitched, but there was no humour in the smile. “We have something of a situation at the moment.”

Geoff stared at her, worried. Dan helped him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. He’d just gotten home - couldn’t things just work out for once without all this drama? 

“Okay. What’s wrong?”

 

* * *

 

Michael gave a relieved groan as he got off the infirmary bench and stretched gingerly. His muscles ached from the hard work he’d done in the furnace, and now that he was home and the adrenaline had drained away, all of his aches, pains and exhaustion were slamming back in. He could feel his magic working to heal him, but he was too tired for it to properly kick in.

He was gonna have some hella scars after this ordeal. He’d pushed the pain aside in the excitement of their escape, but the Overlord’s whip had done a number on him, and he apparently had a cracked rib. But all of that could heal. The important thing was that they were back home - _all_ of them.

_But not all in one piece,_ he thought, and bit his lip, upset, as he traced back Gavin’s strand of the bond, reassuring himself that the other man was still there on the end of it. He shook himself, and turned to the doctors who’d been tending to him.

“Thank you,” he said. They bowed their heads, and Michael left the room in search of Ray.

The Alpine castle felt too quiet.

There had been a great uproar and celebration in the city when they returned with their triumphant news, especially about the death of the Overlord, who the people had taken up in their minds to be some grand, powerful demon. The citizens of the Alps were excited, Michael knew, about how he would lead them to victory in other worlds, not just their own. He would tell them all about the Nether later on.

But for now - for now the castle was silent, even if the people revelled outside in their inns and taverns, celebrating King Geoff’s return. They were all tired from riding back from the lake, and he knew the others were resting in their own chambers.

Ray wasn’t in their shared chambers. It didn’t take long for Michael to guess where he might be, and he headed for Gavin’s room next. Sure enough, Ray was sitting in a chair by the Wild king’s bedside. He seemed lost in thought, but he turned with a start when Michael entered the room and shut the door behind him.

“Hey,” Ray said. He smiled, but he looked tired. His arm was bound in a sling, and although he’d bathed and changed, he still hadn’t shaved - had kept his full beard. It made him look like the older one for once. Michael was still getting used to that.

“Hey,” Michael replied, coming up towards him.

“The doctors finished with you, then?” Ray asked, and Michael grimaced, looking down at himself - his shirt hung loose and open, and the winding strips of bandages were clearly visible around his torso.

“I’m more bandages than man, now,” he muttered. Ray laughed, and Michael moved to kiss him, mindful of his injured shoulder as he tugged him into his arms and pressed their lips together. Ray responded eagerly, his good arm wrapping around Michael’s waist to tug him closer, and when they pulled apart Michael turned him to get a look at his arm.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked. The bleeding had stopped, at least.

“Not great, to be honest,” Ray admitted. “There’s no permanent damage - hopefully - but I’m not meant to move it around too much, and I won’t be able to shoot for a while.”

“Lucky we’re not fighting a war, then,” Michael replied. He meant it as a joke, but Ray’s smile faded.

“Yet,” he said ominously, and looked down at Gavin. Michael followed his gaze and felt his heart sink. 

Gavin’s face was slack, and Michael couldn’t tell if he was asleep or passed out. His eyes flickered beneath his lids, clearly in the throes of some unhappy dream, but he didn’t move so much as an inch, only the shallow rise and fall of his chest indicating that he was alive. There were bandages packed tightly against his side, but even if the bleeding had stopped and the wound had been patched, he was pale as a ghost, his skin ashy from blood loss.

"You think Midas did this?” Michael asked, voice low.

“Who knows,” Ray replied, and reached out, hand trailing gently down Gavin’s arm. The other man didn’t stir. “Only he can tell us, once he wakes up.”

Michael’s heart ached. That had been quite a scare, Gavin spilling through the portal bleeding all over the place, a knife in his side. Jack had freaked out - Ryan had, too, when he felt how the other man’s strand of the bond had slackened, slipping away from them. It had been Ray who remained calm, who called for medical attention from the soldiers on the shore while Michael gathered Gavin up in his arms and carried him back to the tents.

“What did the doctors say?” Michael asked. He sat down on the bed and reached out to smooth Gavin’s hair back from his forehead. His thumb brushed gently over the scars down the other man’s cheek, scars mirrored on Ryan’s face now, too.

“He lost a lot of blood,” Ray replied, “But he’ll pull through. He’s got a fuckload of stitches in there, though.”

He pulled the covers back and lifted Gavin’s shirt so Michael could get a proper look. The smell of herbal salve hit him; the bandages were packed tight against Gavin’s skin, but he could see that the wound was small and deep rather than large and shallow.

“He won’t be going anywhere fast for a while, either,” Ray continued, grimly. “No backflips and handstands until this is completely healed. He’s lucky - it just missed his lung.”

Michael stared unhappily at the injury. The only thing that reassured him was how Gavin’s chest rhythmically rose and fell, reminding him that the other man was still holding on. He wanted to touch him suddenly - to press a hand to his chest and feel the pulse of his heart, his warm skin, press a kiss to the sharp curve of his ribs. But not while the other man was asleep, not when there was still so much they needed to say first.

At least Gavin’s thread of the bond was steady, and growing stronger as he rested. So was Geoff’s - and Michael lingered on that, turning to Ray with a grin.

“Still. We did it,” he said quietly, “We got Geoff back, we really _did it._ ”

“We did!” Ray agreed, allowing himself to cling onto that happiness, too. “I’m too tired to be excited but… you’re right.”

“And now he’s here…” he trailed off, waiting for Ray’s thoughts and half-expecting hesitation, but the other man offered them easily.

“This is the start of something new,” he assured Michael. “Something _better_. Whatever Midas brings, we’ll face it together. But please the apparently non-existent gods, let’s catch a bit of a break, first. We all need time to heal.”

“Heal,” Michael said, and bit his lip. “Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence. Somehow he wasn’t sure if Ray was thinking the same as him - that it wasn’t just a new scar or a wounded shoulder or a deep line of stitches that needed to be fixed - but the other man sighed after a moment, and when they looked at each other Michael could see, in his eyes, that he too felt that deep lethargy that came with all they’d seen in the Nether. All they’d been reminded of, ghosts dredged up from the past that they’d thought they’d laid to rest.

“You think Ryan’s okay?” Ray asked, softly.

“His mother tried to kill him,” Michael replied, and sighed, running his hands over his face. For all his bold words to Ryan down in the furnace, it seemed like that particular confrontation hadn’t exactly gone as planned. “I don’t think he’s okay. I think he _will_ be, but right now… I don’t know. I’ll go and talk to him later. He was angry, when we talked about it, but something like that hits hard.”

“Angry,” Ray murmured, and Michael shrugged.

“I think that’s a good thing. I’d rather be angry than broken.”

Ray didn’t quite look as though he agreed with that, but he didn’t comment. Just looked down at Gavin again, reaching out to adjust the blankets around the other man’s prone form.

“Anyway. Gods above, that bitch,” Michael said, his _own_ anger rising up now at the memory of the sight he’d walked in on; Ryan on his knees, wheezing for breath. Geoff having just stabbed Tamora through the gut. He wished he’d had the chance to have a go at her himself. He’d’ve torn her to shreds if he could. “I can’t believe her. Just - shitty parents, everywhere. I can see why Ryan used to act the way he did when we first met him.”

“Speaking of parents,” Ray began, and there was a funny note in his voice that made Michael look up at him, concerned. Ray wasn’t looking back at him, and Michael saw him swallow, heard the tremor in his voice as he continued. “I… I actually found the building where _my_ parents stayed, during their time in the Nether.”

“What?”

“I know, stroke of luck, right? Not sure if it’s good or bad luck, but we found this old mining town and I… I know it was theirs. My mother drew pictures all over it. Murals, like the ones back in the Desert palace, you know?” He laughed, but it was shaky, and Michael could see the effort he was taking to keep a straight face. “I had a bit of a breakdown about it. Guess I… never really processed their deaths.”

“Shit, Ray.” Michael shifted closer to him, reaching out to touch his shoulder. “I don’t even know how I would’ve reacted. Are you okay?”

“I guess so,” Ray said, but there was something hesitant in his shrug. “I just… I miss them so much. Sometimes I think I’m doing okay, other times - especially just after we got married - I feel like I have no idea what the fuck I’m even doing. If I’m fit to lead. If I’m doing the right thing. Tamora Haywood said something to me-”

“Oh, don’t listen to _her_.”

“No, she kind of had a point. She said my parents would never have done what we did - gone to rescue Geoff. Left their kingdom alone just to chase after a ghost. And you know, she’s right. They wouldn’t have. They were more sensible than that. We all left our kingdoms without leaders, risked five lives for one. I don’t regret it,” he added quickly, “How could I? It was _Geoff_. But…”

“But this is _us_ ,” Michael replied - he saw it so clearly in his mind, so simply that it seemed obvious. “We’re different. We… we have a bond like no one else. The six of us want to be together. It’s about more than just politics and alliances. It’s about us. It’s about… well, it’s about love.” 

It sounded silly to say aloud, and Ray didn’t look impressed.

“Isn’t that selfish?”  
  
“Sure, maybe. But everyone else benefits as well. Peace. Economic prosperity. Knowledge about the Nether and the End that we couldn’t have gotten any other way.” He shrugged. “Everyone wins.”

Ray was silent for a moment. Michael squeezed his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch, but he seemed thoughtful, and not in a good way.

“Call me a cynic,” he murmured finally, “But I don’t believe _everyone_ can ever win.”

Michael didn’t have an answer to that.

“I lost my sword in the Nether,” he said instead. “I’m pissed about that. The Overlord took it, and I never had the chance to get it back. It only really hit me once we got home. That sword’s been in my family for generations. My father passed it down to me. And now I fucking _lost it_.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Ray began, but Michael shook his head.

“I wanted to be the one to kill him. The Overlord,” he clarified, at Ray’s questioning look. “I wanted to slay him. Would’ve been a great story, huh? If anyone killed him, it should’ve been me or Geoff. But fucking Midas swooped in and stole the kill and now my gods damned sword is gone.”

“We’ll make you another,” Ray assured him. “Gav knows the witches. He can get them to enchant a new one. Maybe Ryan can help make it. It’ll be the start of a new legacy, for a new us.”

“There’s the fucking rub,” Michael replied. “There’s the rub for all of us. We want to start something new. But I don’t want to give up the past, either. I don’t want to give up… give up my _parents’_ legacy, in a way. When we were in there, watching him? Part of me wanted to just charge in there and kill him. Same with Tamora. Geoff stopped me, it’d have been stupid to risk my life for it. But I couldn’t help it. Even now, I know my parents would never have trusted Ryan, or let Gavin get away with taking the crown. I used to get weird flashes of doubt, like I should’ve done more to keep the Alps in power. But then I got to know Ryan, and Gav, and I know that’s not how it works anymore. Not with us.”

“You’re right,” Ray murmured. And then, again, “I’m sorry about your sword.”

“It’s okay. I’d rather have my life. That way I can do this,” he said, and moved in to kiss Ray. The other man laughed against his lips, and it was genuine and happy and _real,_ and that was quite enough for Michael, at least for now. He wrapped his arms around Ray’s waist, pulling him close, and when they broke apart he turned and looked down at Gavin. It felt strange, the other man being so close to them, yet so far away - lost in his unconscious dreams. Ray followed his gaze, and frowned, resting his head against Michael’s shoulder.

“He was really upset about still not knowing who his parents are,” he whispered. “When I found my mother’s drawings, he kinda flipped out.”

“We’ll help him find out. He’ll get there. The answers are somewhere in our world - he just has to find them. Now that Geoff’s back, there’ll be more time.”

“Yeah, well, you didn’t see him. It was rough. But speaking of Geoff,” Ray added, more brightly, “He and Gavin made up! They’re together now, I guess. Not sure how much they talked about it. But it seems like that, at least, worked out for the best. And now that they’re together, and Gavin’s with Ryan…”

He trailed off, but Michael knew what he meant. _Time for_ everyone _to come together. If we’re ready for it. I think I am. And I think Ray is, too, if the way he’s grinning is anything to go by._

He grinned back, hugging Ray close to him for a moment and pressing another kiss to his temple.

“Definitely a conversation we’re gonna have - once Gav wakes up and we’re actually in the same kingdom as Geoff,” he pointed out, and Ray laughed. “In the meantime, I’m gonna go check on Ryan.”

“I’ll stay here with Gavin in case he wakes up,” Ray said, and Michael nodded, casting one last fond look down at Gavin before leaving.

 

* * *

 

It took a while to find Ryan. He wasn’t in his room, even though the sun was setting outside and it would almost be time to eat. Michael wandered around for a while until a servant mentioned seeing him go out behind the stables.

It was quite dark, and starting to get cold outside. Sure enough, Ryan was in the open courtyard leading from the back of the stables, crouched down amongst a number of crates. Michael recognised them as the supplies he’d brought from the Stoneworld, the Netherrack and all his other lab equipment. He had his heavy coat wrapped around him, and was hunched over a redstone torch, looking at a spread out parchment.

“What are you doing?” Michael called out.

Ryan looked up, calmly.

“Work,” he replied.

“More work?” Michael approached, peering over Ryan’s shoulder, but he didn’t understand the scribbled notes. He crouched next to him and reached out, touching his shoulder. “Go rest, Ryan. You’ve done enough work already.”

Ryan just hummed, reaching out and scrawling some more numbers on the page.

“This is important,” he replied.

“You need to sleep. And eat something,” Michael added. Ryan didn’t reply, and Michael sighed, rummaging in his own pockets until he produced a small wineskin. He held it out to Ryan, who raised an eyebrow before taking it and yanking the cork out, sniffing at it.

“Is this rum?” he asked, and Michael nodded. Ryan’s eyebrow rose further, but after a moment he took a swig and then let out a slow sigh. Michael watched him, quietly. The doctors had patched up the worst of his injuries, and he’d taken the time to stop and wash away the grime of dried blood and Nether dust - but he still looked exhausted. There were deep wells under his eyes, and a dark line around his neck. It made him look like the ghost of someone who’d been hanged.

“Thanks,” he said afterwards, and passed the bottle back to Michael. “Definitely needed that.”

Michael gave a quiet chuckle as he took a sip himself.

“We all need to get ragingly drunk together after this shit,” he said. “It’d be good to unwind. Except Ray, he doesn’t really drink.”

“I don’t much, either,” Ryan admitted. “But I sure needed one after all this.”

He turned back to his plans, and Michael leaned forward, curious.

“What are you working on that’s so important it can’t wait?” he asked.

“How soon do you want to see Geoff?”

Michael blinked, a little confused.

“As soon as possible, of course,” he said. 

“Exactly,” Ryan replied. “It will take some time to travel from here to the Wild - or vice versa. But what if we could get there in an instant?”

It was funny, the patience in his voice as he explained. Once he might’ve snapped at Michael to mind his own business. Michael found he enjoyed it - learning, being privy to one of Ryan’s complicated projects. He thought, suddenly, of Gavin down in that lab with Ryan, helping him out. Learning from him. Thought that he might’ve liked to be there, too.

“How?” he asked.

“We already know it’s possible to build a portal to travel to the Nether, or the End,” Ryan explained. “Suppose we could build some between the kingdoms, too?”

“You could do that?” Michael exclaimed, and Ryan nodded.

“Yes, I’m trying to. Gavin and I discussed this in the Wild. We built a test set, very close to each other, on either side of our kingdoms’ borders. As you know, the Nether portal is made out of Netherrack, and the End portal’s built out of Enderstone. I built the one leading to the Stoneworld out of redstone, and the one leading to the Wild is made of the same obsidian they use in the foundations of their temples. To activate them, we used Ender pearls.”

“And did it work?” Michael asked, eagerly.

“Yes,” Ryan said, and smiled. “Although we did only build them about ten metres away from each other. I’ve brought more of the materials,” he said, and patted the crate beside him. “I’d like to try and build more here, as a test over a longer distance. If you’re agreeable, of course.”

“That’d be fine,” Michael said, probably far too enthusiastically. He couldn’t stop grinning, excited - the idea was obvious now he thought about it; if they knew how to build portals, why not continue to develop the idea? But somehow he’d never expected they might find a way to travel between kingdoms so quickly.

“Unlike the doors to the Nether and the End, we need to build two for it to work,” Ryan added, tapping the page thoughtfully. “They only go one way for now. But I can take some rock from here in the Alps, and build a portal leading back from the Stoneworld.”

“So we’d have a travel system,” Michael said, and clapped his hands together in delight. “Holy shit, Ryan. That’s genius - you’re a _genius!”_

“Well,” Ryan replied, and looked away, seeming almost embarrassed.

“I mean it!” Michael cried, and threw an arm around his shoulders, jostling him close. “It’ll solve all our problems about… about distance and communication and _everything!_ ”

“It will make things more convenient,” Ryan replied simply, but he was grinning, and Michael could tell that he understood how _big_ this was - one thing standing in the way of their relationship was how terribly vast their land was. Even he and Ray had been struggling to balance things, and their kingdoms were next door to each other. But if they could travel in an instant - it’d make it far easier to rule and still be together.

“I could kiss you,” he said, without really thinking about it.

Ryan looked surprised, then smiled.

“Maybe later on,” he replied, and Michael nodded, cheeks heating a little. They sat quietly for a moment, Michael watching as Ryan continued to scribble on his plans. Although the silence was companionable, he couldn’t forget the reason he’d come here in the first place. There was still a hardness to Ryan’s face, and he wrote so furiously that his charcoal crumbled a little at the ends.

“Hey,” Michael piped up eventually. “About what happened with your mother…”  

Ryan tensed immediately, freezing mid-scribble.

“I’d rather just try and forget about her entirely,” he replied, voice curt. “Like I was trying to do before she reappeared and, y’know. Tried to kill me.”

Michael just nodded, and waited patiently. Ryan was silent for a long moment. He continued to write - then finally paused, lowering the charcoal and sighing, his shoulders hunched.

“I am ashamed,” he said quietly, not looking at Michael.

“Of what?” Michael replied. Of everything Ryan could’ve said, he wasn’t expecting that.

“Before, in the furnace. Our talk.” Ryan swallowed hard, and by now Michael knew him well enough to tell that the tightness in his voice wasn’t annoyance, but masking some deep vulnerability. “You really made me believe that I would be able to face up to her, and tell her to go fuck herself, and leave her behind for good. But when I saw her again… I couldn’t do it.” His fists clenched. “I faltered. I almost _believed_ her. And in my hesitance, she was able to take me by surprise and nearly kill me. Would’ve, if Geoff hadn’t intervened.”

Michael bit his lip. Ryan was wound tight, his shoulders trembling.

“You thought I was strong,” he said, and laughed. “I wasn’t. I was weak.”

“You weren’t weak,” Michael said, quietly.

“I _was_ , Michael.” Now Ryan looked up at him, eyes red. “You wouldn’t have - if it had been you there - you would’ve attacked _her_ , you would’ve killed her, if you could.”

“No,” Michael said, and when Ryan opened his mouth again, he reached out and put a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Ryan - it’s easy for me to say all those things. But I’m not the one who grew up with her, who has that history and that connection. I can’t say what I would have done. But Ryan, in the end - you left her behind. That’s not weak. It’s not fucking _weak_ to be affected like that by someone who - who hurt you. You have no reason to be ashamed,” he added, fiercely. “Let’s just be glad she’s trapped behind, now. We closed the door. There’s no way for her to return. She’ll have no choice but to pass on.”

Ryan gave a little huff.

“I almost wish she wouldn’t,” he muttered. “I wish she’d be trapped in the Nether for good - trapped in _hell_. That’s one good thing about her holding on there for so long. She had more time to suffer.”

The words were surprisingly vindictive, but Ryan’s voice was fierce now - angry - and it made sense. Hell, Michael would wish the same thing. He nodded, grinning, and was glad when Ryan managed a small smile, though it faded a moment later as he looked away.

“And that weakness,” he added, voice flat and serious. “It won’t happen again.”

Michael wasn’t sure what he meant, but he didn’t comment.

“No matter what she said to you,” he said, “No matter what happened with her… the rest of us are very proud of you.”

It sounded cheesy, but it put the smile back on Ryan’s face.

“There’s something I didn’t hear much growing up,” he murmured, and Michael’s heart ached. He squeezed Ryan’s arm.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “I mean, gods, could anyone else have done this?” He gestured at Ryan’s plans. “Built the portals, come up with _this_ \- you got us to the Nether. You saved Geoff by preserving his body. Without you, we couldn’t have done any of it. And you did all that for _us_! And you prevailed and you made your kingdom what it is now despite having that… that _thing_ for a mother. It’s incredible,” he added, and a genuine, deep affection ran into his voice, “So are _you_. Maybe you don’t believe it right now, but I hope you know that I think you are. And so do all the others.”

Ryan didn’t answer; he was looking away, but his face was softer now, and Michael leaned in closer.

“Ray was telling me about Gav before,” he said, “And the issues he’s having right now. About not being born noble and all that crap. I know he’s the one we’re always reassuring about being worthy of all this. The one who’s proven himself. But maybe you need to hear it too. You proved yourself. You’re worthy. You’ve brought honour back to your family line after all the shit your ancestors did. We can all see that, and soon everyone else will, too.”

His hand slid up Ryan’s shoulder to touch his cheek instead, lightly, mindful of the deep scratches that were only just starting to heal. Ryan didn’t shy away, just turned and stared into Michael’s eyes. Saw the fierce sincerity there as Michael smiled at him.

“You have a funny way,” Ryan said finally, softly, “Of always managing to hit on exactly what I need to hear.”

“Just being honest,” Michael replied.

Ryan huffed out a laugh. He was smiling, and their faces were so close that Michael could almost feel the other man’s breath against his lips. In the silence that followed Michael thought something might happen - wondered if he should make a move, close the gap between them.

In the end, he just leaned forward to press their foreheads together instead; a contact that was intimate without being intense. He heard Ryan give a hitching little breath, something deeply vulnerable in it.

Footsteps rang out behind them, and the moment was broken. They turned as Jack entered. Michael saw him glance between them - but he didn’t comment, just gestured for them to rise. There was an oddly serious look on his face, and Michael’s heart sank.

_What’s going on now?_

“Throne room,” Jack said, beckoning them. “Meeting, now. I’ve just spoken to Geoff. He’s fine, it all worked, but we have another problem on our hands.”

 

* * *

 

They sat around one of the tables in the entrance hall of the Wild castle. It seemed like the amount of cats had doubled since Geoff was last here; they were all crowded in the last evening rays of sunlight that streamed through the windows. Still, he didn’t have much time to enjoy the homely atmosphere; he was eating, and the roast meat was heavenly after six months of nothing in the Nether - but it was hard to focus on enjoying that, either, when he was so wrapped up in what the others were telling him.

Jack’s ghostly form sat beside him. He’d appeared in the Sight a few minutes ago, as Geoff expected, checking on him - and explaining all the rest of it. Gavin’s injury. How they’d gone back to the castle from the lake. Now he, too, listened with an increasingly grim look on his face as the others began to explain.

“Shortly after King Haywood left for the Alps,” Mica said, “There was… I guess you could call it a coup. King Haywood left me in charge, but he took most of the battle golems with him. The ones that were left behind are set to do particular jobs - guard the wall from mobs, guard the mines, help with heavy lifting.”

“Right,” Geoff said.

“There’s a man,” Mica said, and swallowed. “Claudius is the main one, but he’s just one of many of Queen Haywood’s supporters who’s unhappy with the king’s leadership.” 

“It would’ve caused a riot if King Haywood tried to get rid of all her old people in the court right after she died,” Kerry added, “So he’s been trying to slowly reduce their power since he inherited. Of course they noticed. They’re not happy about it.”

“They’re not happy about a lot of things,” Mica said, darkly. “His alliance with the rest of you. His not attacking the Wild to get the crown back after the games. The money he’s been putting into things like education and improving infrastructure in the outer areas of the city.”

“All the good shit, basically,” Geoff said, eyebrows rising. Mica nodded.

“The last straw,” Kerry piped up, “Was Gavin.”

Geoff and Jack exchanged a worried glance.

“He went to the Stoneworld to help with the portals,” Jack said, and Mica nodded.

“He was there for a while,” she said, “And they spent a lot of time working together. They were… they were never _overt_ about it, but it was pretty clear to everyone around that they were… um…”

“Fucking?” Geoff supplied, shovelling another forkful of meat into his mouth.

“Together,” Mica replied, and sighed. “Look, people… people hate Gavin here. I know I did, too, after he won the games. _‘Won’_ the games,” she added, finger quotes included.

“In our kingdom there was a lot of bitterness as well,” Jack said thoughtfully.

“Of course,” Mica said. “King Haywood was furious. It spilled over. Everyone saw it as cheating, as a betrayal. For the court and the officials, it was humiliating, especially when most of them didn’t approve of the games in the first place. For the public, they were angry on Ryan’s behalf. Whatever happened between you all in the Wild six months ago, it… it changed things for the King. He trusts you now. But not for the people, because he didn’t tell them _why_ we’re all suddenly meant to be friends with the Plains. With the Alps. With the Wild king.”

Geoff was silent. It made sense, but in everything that’d happened, it’d slipped his mind how this must all _look_ to outsiders.

“So there are… some not so pleasant rumours going around about how and why Gavin has shown up and suddenly our king is helping him out with all these secret projects - not to mention how he up and left himself to head off to some other world. Especially to save _you_ , someone we all knew he despised!” Mica said, throwing her hands up.

“It doesn’t make sense to people,” Kerry agreed. “And I mean, look - King Ryan has a lot of support among the commoners. But as much as they like him… right now, because of all this, he looks weak. Some people say Gavin’s manipulating him. Some say he lost his mind in the Wild. Some say he’s just slipping, that the power and success got to his head and turned him stupid.”

They were ugly words, and made Geoff bristle defensively.

“So what did this Claudius do?” he asked.

“His supporters have been growing for a while,” Mica explained, “Mostly among the noblemen, the upper class. Some of the army, too. Some are still loyal to me - but Claudius has enough support that the other week they advanced on the castle, threatened me, and then took the crown. They destroyed some of the golems Ryan left to guard the place, and now they’re in charge. They ran Kerry and I out of the castle when we wouldn’t surrender. We barely escaped, and had nowhere to go except the Wild.”

She glanced at Griffon gratefully, and the other woman gave a small smile back.

“So now they’re in control,” Mica continued. “They’ve got the crown, and they’re waiting for Ryan to get back. The people who support Ryan are too scared to rise up because they already killed a few who spoke out against them, just to make a point. Called them traitors to the crown. Not the king,” she added, “The _crown_.”

“They see themselves as the saviours of the Stoneworld,” Kerry added, “Restoring it to its former glory.”

“Glory!” Geoff cried, indignantly. “Ryan’s done the fucking most for it!”

“He did,” Kerry agreed, “But now they say he’s slipping. Look, like I said - a lot of the miners and farmers support him, but it’s not enough. They’re scared.”

There was a glum silence. Geoff pushed his plate away, his appetite gone. Beside him, Jack lowered his head, upset and thoughtful.

“Shit,” Geoff said finally.

“Basically,” Kerry groaned.

Jack raised his head.

“So how big an army do they have?” he asked.

“A lot of the people who I recruited and worked with are still loyal,” Mica said, “But they’re trapped there under the generals that Claudius and the others implemented. They’ve dug up others- older nobles who are still willing to put on their armour, pick up a sword and fight. Hired mercenaries they recruited from all over the kingdoms - they’ve been planning this undercover for a while. I’d say at the very least half the forces in the city are theirs, now.”

Jack and Geoff glanced at one another. Geoff could see the worry in Jack’s eyes. The last time someone rose up against a king, the Plains were at war for eight months, and things only ended up being resolved because their opponent was eaten by a fucking dragon.

“I’ll let Ryan know what’s going on,” Jack said, finally. “We’ll have to figure this out. He’ll have a plan, hopefully.”

“With all the other kingdoms behind him, Ryan can take things back easily,” Geoff added. “He’ll have three other armies at his back. Four, including Gavin’s mobs.”

“True,” Mica said, but she looked away, something uncertain in her face. Geoff didn’t miss it.

“What is it?” he asked, leaning forward.

Mica bit her lip.

“That’s kind of one of their selling points,” she admitted. “King Haywood’s new dependence on you others. They don’t trust you. They think this whole alliance is a sham, and that it’ll get the Stoneworld hurt. To them, a… healthily hostile relationship between the kingdoms is ideal - is better than interdependence. If you support Ryan, in their eyes he’ll now _owe_ you. In their eyes, well… it shows he’s relying on you, and that you could use it against him later.”

It made an unhappy sort of sense, and Geoff wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, he sighed.

“Well, we’ll talk to Ryan and see. I’m glad you two got out safely,” he added. “Ryan will be glad to hear that, at least.”

Both of them smiled, but there was little humour in it. Geoff turned to Gus and Griffon, then.

“Thank you for sheltering them,” he said, and Gus just shrugged.

“None of us wanted to be involved in anything outside of the Wild,” he informed Geoff. “But it looks like we’re all going to be pulled into this. It’ll just be good to have Gavin back, and see what he wants to do. I know he’ll support the rest of you,” he added, grudgingly, “But I suppose it’s better Ryan be in charge than any of those others.”

“You used to loathe him,” Griffon pointed out, amused, and Gus huffed.

“I hate the Haywoods,” he corrected her. “But Ryan doesn’t act like the rest of them. Anyway - we’re keeping watch on the Wild in case they come after Mica and Kerry, but so far they haven’t approached us. It’d be nice to have eyes in the city, though, so we at least know what they’re up to.”

“Leave that up to me,” Jack said, smiling.

Gus nodded. He rose, along with Griffon, and they left with Mica and Kerry, leaving the others to sit together. Geoff sighed - he felt like sleeping for a week, easing back into things slowly, but it seemed like that wouldn’t be happening any time soon. He rested his head on his arms on the table, but when he turned his head he found Jack watching him thoughtfully.

“Hey,” Jack said. “You can feel the bond, right?”

“Yep,” Geoff replied. “And you can feel me now?”

“Yes, it’s back. I like it,” Jack added, grinning, “It’s nice having you here.”

Geoff smiled back. It was strange being bonded with Jack; he’d never imagined it would happen. But it was nice, reassuring. 

“But if you have that magic,” Jack continued, “Can you use the Sight? Are we sharing the gift, now?”

Geoff froze. He’d grown so used to not having his gift while in the Nether that the thought hadn’t so much as crossed his mind. 

“Haven’t tried yet,” he replied, and shut his eyes, calling on the magic inside him. Indeed, a second later he stepped out of his body. If anything, it felt even easier than before, after all the time he’d spent as nothing more than a soul in the Nether. He and Jack stared at each other, two ghostly forms, before he returned and opened his eyes to find Jack grinning.

“Shit, so we have two people with the Sight now?” Jack asked.

“Apparently so,” Geoff said, and laughed. “That’s good! That’s great, even, it makes things much easier! We’ll rule together, of course. Two kings.”

Jack seemed surprised.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t-”

“No, Jack,” Geoff said, firmly. “You were king for six months and you did a fucking bang up job. There’s no need to cause more instability by switching over again. _Together_. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have by my side.”

Jack stared at him - then smiled, and gave a little laugh, looking away. Geoff grinned, pleased that after all this time he could still fluster the other man.

“So who’s going where?” he asked, then. “You coming to me, or should I go to you?”

“Let’s see what Ryan wants first,” Jack replied, shaking himself. “I want to see you soon, though,” he added, and sighed before getting up from the bench. “Better go warn him.”

“Hey.” Geoff reached automatically for his arm only for his hand to pass right through him. Jack turned anyway. “Tell him we’re behind him one hundred percent. The Plains is a big kingdom and our forces are nothing to scoff at. Should make this Claudius fellow think twice.”

Jack nodded, but stared at Geoff quietly for a moment.

“You know our court might not be behind him, even if we are,” he began, but Geoff nodded.

“I know. With my return from the dead I’ll give them a big epic speech. Might even stop over there in the Sight later this evening.” He grinned, stretching, and Jack nodded. There was another pause, then Jack took a step closer to him.

“I can’t believe you’re back.” There was something soft in his voice again now.

“I know.”

“I missed you so much, Geoff.” Jack swallowed, seeming close to tears again. “Just knowing you’re here to sort out this situation with me, it’s… it’s good.”

“I missed you too,” Geoff replied. He wanted to reach out and touch Jack, comfort him, take time just to _be_ with him, but all they could do was look at each other. “I missed all of you. I’ll be there soon, we have a lot of lost time to make up. This is going to be busy,” he added, “But we’ll find time just for us, I promise. That’s important, too. And it’s also important to show the people that we all care about each other, here - that this alliance is real and they have nothing to fear. If we can get Gavin back in their good books it’d help, too.”

Jack nodded. He reached out, too, but let his hands fall when he realised they couldn’t touch. Geoff wondered if this was how it had felt all those times he’d appeared to Jack in the Sight when one of them was away on a long trip.

“Go let Ryan know about this, then,” he said. And then added, “I love you.”

Jack’s face lit up with a bright smile. It filled Geoff’s chest with warmth to see it. Six months had been far too long to go without being able to say it.

“I love you, too,” Jack replied. And then he was gone, vanished like the wind, and Geoff turned back to his food with a sigh. His smile was bittersweet; he was _home_ now, able to be back with the others. But he had a lingering, uneasy feeling. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Tamora, and all the time he’d spent with her in the Nether. The six of them had their gifts, and that should’ve promised them the right to rule. But there were other ways to gain power, and it struck him suddenly how Tamora had suddenly turned on him. She had to know that the others wouldn’t let her go through the door after that.

_Unless,_ he realised with horror, _she realised that there was a very easily available vacant body for her to take. My body. With me out of the way, she could just take it. Fucking hell…_

It made him feel sick to think about. But it was just another reminder of how all around them there were people like this. Cunning, insidious people who like termites could worm their way in and then send everything they’d built up toppling down. He remembered how much trouble Mark Nutt had caused him - and now Ryan was facing the same. It was no joke.

But Ryan had all of them at his back, he thought, and took a deep breath. Things were different now. They were together. _We’ve got this._

 

* * *

 

Ryan’s face was stony when Jack finished reporting what had happened. A long silence fell, and Jack turned to the others at the table. Michael looked furious, fists clenched at his sides. Ray, beside him, just seemed worried.

“The fuck,” Michael blurted out finally. “Well, we’re gonna march in there and take the crown right the fuck back! Who does this guy think he is?”

Ryan swallowed, and leaned forward. His expression was unreadable.

“Claudius was one of my mother’s closest advisors,” he said, voice tight. “He has a lot of connections within the nobility, so I’ve never quite been able to get rid of him since I inherited.”

“Well, you can do it now,” Michael said fiercely. “Once we get that crown back, chop his head off.”

“Michael!” Ray chided, sounding rather shocked.

“What?” Michael turned to him, hands on his hips. “There are laws for a reason. What he’s done is treason. Unintentional rhyme - see, the universe has written in poetry that this dickhead has to die.”

His tone was joking, but the anger in his eyes was very real. Ryan just tilted his head.

“We can’t just go charging back in,” he said, slowly. “He has my army.”

“Well, you’ve got mine,” Michael pointed out. “And Jack’s, and Ray’s.”

“Michael, it’s not as simple as that,” Jack said gently. “We can’t take the throne back through sheer brute force. It’d look like all the rest of us declaring war on the Stoneworld. What we need to do is first put out some sort of statement about it, let the heralds spread the word that the rest of us will only support Ryan as king. Then we need to hold a meeting, probably. Give Claudius an ultimatum, a chance to surrender. That would be fairer.”

“Fairer,” Ryan repeated, and seemed to shake off whatever had been hanging over him. He looked up and met Jack’s eyes. “Yes - that’s a good idea, Jack. He can’t control my golems, and I still have the gift. I have the people’s support. I’ll speak to the whole city about this. But first we need to announce Geoff’s revival.”

He seemed to gain confidence then, turning back to the rest of them.

“I’ll also demonstrate the portal travel system, and tell everybody the truth about the different worlds we’ve discovered. They’ll need me to lead because Claudius has no idea how any of his operates. Once I have that all out in the open, I should be able to entice some of the nobility to my side, and with Mica’s help call on those who are loyal to me in the army to turn against him. There’s no need for violence just yet. First step should be to get the people back on our side.”

“That shouldn’t take too long,” Ray began, tentatively. “Right? With the news we have about the Overlord and everyone else, it’ll be fine.”

He didn’t sound too confident, and Jack looked over at him and nodded reassuringly. It was times like this when he remembered that Michael and Ray had far less experience leading than the rest of them.

Ryan nodded too, but he still seemed pensive.

“Hey,” Jack said, and leaned across the table to pat his arm briskly. “We got this handled.”

Michael was still bristling, and Jack cast him a concerned glance, but he didn’t say anything - just folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, letting out a hissing stream of breath. Ryan didn’t seem to notice.

“I know,” he replied, glancing at Jack. “But it’s… an unfortunate situation to come home to.”

“Tamora said this would happen,” Gavin’s voice rang out suddenly, and they all turned in surprise. Gavin’s face was pale, and he was clutching at his side, leaning heavily in the doorframe.

Jack’s heart surged with worry. When Gavin emerged from the portal, injured, he had been nearly hysterical with fear that they might be about to lose somebody else, so soon after their triumphant escape. He was glad to see the other man up and about, but he clearly looked like he was in pain. Jack started to rise - but Ryan was already out of his chair and rushing over to him.

“What are you doing up?” he demanded.

Gavin tried to straighten up, and winced.

“I woke up,” he replied, meeting Ryan’s worried eyes. “And the servants told me you were all in a meeting.”

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked, quietly. “Are you in pain?”  
  
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Gavin said, but his voice was strained. He hissed as he tried to take a step forward, and Ryan quickly put an arm around him and helped him over to the table, lowering him into a chair. Gavin sighed in relief as he sat down, and when Ryan sat beside him he shifted closer and leaned against the other man’s side.

“What did you say about Tamora?” Ray asked.

“She was going on about how people were gonna rise up against us all,” Gavin replied, and swallowed. “She said it to me and-”

“To Geoff, too,” Jack added, remembering the other man telling him about that earlier.

“Yeah, and me,” Ray said. “You don’t think she had this _planned,_ do you?”

Ryan began to frown, but Gavin shook his head.

“Nothing so sinister,” he said. “I… I think she could tell it’d happen because, well. It makes _sense_ , doesn’t it? People hate me in the Plains and in the Stoneworld and probably here, too. I’ve known that for a while. So they took the chance while you were away, Ryan. You even said before we all left for the Nether that there might be backlash.”

“When I explain,” Ryan said grimly, “People will understand.”

Gavin hummed, but he didn’t seem overly convinced. 

“Take some of the minerals from the Wild,” he murmured. “We have a lot. Consider it an alliance gift. Let them know that I’ll let the Stoneworld mine there, but only if _you’re_ king. Otherwise, the new leadership will find the Wild as much of an enemy as it used to be.”

Ryan shook his head.

“It’s the villages who suffered mob attacks, more than the city,” he pointed out. “That’ll sound like a threat against them.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Gavin said, and leaned his head against Ryan’s shoulder. “I defer to your judgment.”

There was a long, glum silence. Even if they had something of a plain, Jack still felt a churning nervousness in his stomach. After a while, Ray reached across the table and touched Gavin’s hand. Gavin looked up and gave a brief smile.

“So the elephant in the room,” he said. “Who stuck a knife in my guts.”

“Was it Midas?” Ray asked, frowning.

“No,” Gavin said, and sighed. “Tamora. She followed me to the portal and then attacked me…” Ryan had gone stiff beside him, and Gavin twisted to look up at him. “Said she did it to hurt you.”

Jack saw Ryan’s face cloud over. Not only did his eyes harden, but something so dark and angry passed across his face that for a moment it nearly frightened Jack.

“And just when I thought I couldn’t hate her even more,” he said, and gave such a grim laugh that it send a shudder down Jack’s spine.

“But Midas killed her,” Gavin said, and looked around at all of them, sitting up a bit. “He saved my life. He wanted me to come to the End with him to get help for my injury, but I ran away. He let me go. He could’ve killed me, but he didn’t.”

Jack frowned, confused. The Wither had come from Midas’ portal, and they’d been the ones to kill Geoff. He’d assumed the Gold king wanted _all_ of them dead, for whatever reason.

“Did you ask him about your dreams?” Ray asked.

“Yes, and he seemed confused,” Gavin said, and pulled a face. “Like, genuinely confused.”

“He killed the Overlord,” Michael observed, and glanced at Ryan, who nodded. “He was looking for the Wild king. We thought he meant you, but the Overlord said he’d passed on.”

“Robin,” Gavin murmured, thoughtfully.

“Who’s Robin?” Ryan asked.

“Weisheng told Gavin that the Wild King around the time he was born was called Robin,” Jack explained. “You think that’s who he was looking for?”

Gavin nodded.

“He told me that,” he said. “When I first spoke to him through the portal, he was confused who I was. He thought I was some previous king of the Wild.”

“So you reckon he was talking to Robin through the portal, but then something happened,” Jack mused.

“Yes,” Gavin said, but shook his head in frustration. “But I’m pretty bloody confused about the _timeline_ of things! Why hasn’t Midas just come through? The portal exists. It was open when Weisheng found it. It was open when we found it. The beasts came through, and the Wither. But never Midas. He seemed to want my help getting out last time. He was able to leave the End to get to the Nether - how come not our world?”  


“He was banished there by the old gods,” Ryan pointed out. “And the Endermen. Some sort of safeguard on the portal, maybe?”

“Maybe,” Gavin agreed, but bit his lip, looking away.

“Do you think he’s gonna try and come here to take over?” Ray asked. “Is that something we should be preparing for?”

“I don’t think so,” Gavin replied, but took a deep breath. “But I have an idea you’re not gonna like.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. The quiet hesitance in Gavin’s voice was already making him nervous, and his next words didn’t help:

“I think I have to go through the End portal and meet with Midas.”

There was a shocked silence. Jack’s stomach dropped; he saw Michael’s eyes widen, and the surprise that crossed Ray’s face. 

“...no,” Michael said finally, flatly.

Jack knew that look on Gavin’s face. It was the look he’d gotten when he asked Geoff to let him play chess in the games, when he was standing in the Wild holding the crown ready to put it on. Pale and unsure, but still _determined._

“Look,” Gavin said. “He could’ve killed me, but he didn’t. He wants my help for whatever his plan is. What if I pretended to help him, but was secretly there to find out what it is and how to stop him? We need eyes on him. I can do that.” He scoffed out a laugh, looking up at Ryan. “It’s what I’m good at, isn’t it? Pretending to be close to someone.”

Jack almost gasped at that - but Ryan didn’t look angry or hurt, like he once might have. Just protective as he shook his head firmly.

“You don’t have to do that for us,” he insisted. “The guy’s fucking dangerous - he can kill you just with a touch.”

“He could have,” Gavin agreed. “He didn’t. If he comes here, he could kill _all_ of us. Just to be clear,” he added, “I’m not asking permission.”

“Gavin,” Jack chided, fear making him snap a little. “It’s not just you, now.”

Gavin looked surprised - then chastened. He bit his lip and reached out, touching Jack’s hand softly.

“I know,” he whispered. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’re worried about me, but I… I need to do this.”

“Why?” Jack asked.

Gavin didn’t answer, just looked away. There was clearly more to the story, and Jack wasn’t going to lie - it hurt that Gavin wasn’t telling him. But he didn’t want to push, not now, not after how upset Gavin had already been with him before. He reach up and rubbed his temples, sighing.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he decided. “We’re all tired. We still need to figure out Ryan’s shit. Let’s sleep on it, and have another meeting tomorrow.”

“He killed the Overlord,” Michael said again, out of nowhere. His eyes were trained on Gavin.

“I know,” Gavin replied. “Which is why we can’t stop him just with brute force. We need intelligence, too. Cunning.” He gestured at himself again, and Jack bit his lip. 

Ray didn’t look happy about this plan. Michael glanced at Jack then, and Jack stared back at him grimly. It was clear none of them liked it. Even Ryan was silent. He looked so tired, with those dark lines under his eyes. This had been stressful enough before Gavin came in announcing his plans to jump off through another portal.

“Dinner soon,” Michael said abruptly, when no one spoke again. “Jack’s right. Let’s not think about it tonight. We have Geoff back - that’s what matters.”

The mention of Geoff made everyone relax a little. That was one very, very heavy weight off their shoulders, at least. 

“I’ll work on my portal,” Ryan agreed. “It’ll get us to the Stoneworld faster.”

They rose in some mutual agreement not to talk about this any more tonight. Jack was glad of it; he was exhausted, and even if it was just for an evening, he didn’t want to think about all the work they still had left to do.

“Ray, can you help me back to my room?” Gavin asked softly. He had gone pale again, his face pinched with pain.

“Sure, Gavvo,” Ray replied, moving to his side. He wrapped his good arm around Gavin’s waist and the other man leaned on him as he limped out of the room.

Ryan was standing with his hands braced against the table, head down. Jack bit his lip, worried about him. He stepped forward, but before he could speak, Ryan lifted his head.

“It never ends,” he said, abruptly. “Unless you take steps to end it yourself.”

He turned and strode out of the room without another word, leaving Jack and Michael staring after him in confusion. They turned and looked at one another.

“What the fuck did that mean?” Michael asked, and Jack could only shrug. Both of them seemed to deflate, tired, and Jack walked around the table to join him.   


“Hey,” he said - he was glad for a moment alone with the other man. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried when the Overlord had you. Are you doing alright?”

Michael’s face fell a little.

“I lost my sword,” he said, and it hit Jack that he hadn’t seen the other man with it since they arrived in the Nether.

“Oh shit, Michael. I’m sorry. That was from your family, right?”

Michael nodded. He tried to force a smile, but it wasn’t convincing.

“Guess I’ll have it back once I die for real and go back there,” he joked weakly.

“Still,” Jack said. “I know it was special to you. That must be hard. Maybe we can all make another one?”

“That’s what Ray said,” Michael chuckled. He sighed, and heaved a deep breath. “I don’t need the sword to fight. I still have my gift. But it was… it was nice, having that reminder of my parents, y’know? But anyway.”

He was trying to look tough, but Jack could tell how upset he was. He stepped forward and tugged him into a gentle hug; Michael leaned into him easily before looking up at him.

“Geoff’s back,” he whispered.

“I know,” Jack replied.

“I’m excited to get to know both of you together.” There was something pointed in his voice, in his eyes as he leaned in closer, and Jack’s breath caught a little. 

He was very fond of Michael, he knew that much. He thought he might even love him. And things were slowly coming together; he had Gavin, now, and he saw the way Michael looked at him too. Michael had spent more time with Ryan, who Jack had always been close to. And there was still Ray, who Jack needed to get to know better. Hopefully, even with all this happening, he’d get the chance for that, now.

He reached out and smoothed some of Michael’s hair back.

“Have you talked to Ray about this?” he asked.

“Yes,” Michael said, and then the words that everyone had been sitting on for a while now. “We’re ready.”

“Okay,” Jack said, and swallowed. He felt nervous again, but in a good way, now. “As soon as Geoff’s around…”

He trailed off. Michael was smiling, and he reached up, resting his hands on Jack’s chest for a moment before pulling back and turning away.

“Okay,” he replied. “I’ll go see how dinner’s coming along then.”

Jack nodded. He took a deep breath as he watched Michael leave; it felt like something had been confirmed, somehow. He still wanted to talk to Ray, but later on. For now he went to find Gavin, feeling they still had a few things to sort out between them.

 

* * *

 

The door to Gavin’s room was shut, but not locked. Jack knocked gently, wondering if the other man had fallen asleep.

“Come in,” Ryan’s voice called back, and Jack froze, his chest tightening a little.

He hadn’t expected Ryan to be in there. Yet again he felt a twinge of something a bit too close to jealousy. Not just because of how Gavin had let Ryan in, but vice versa - he and Ryan got along, had since the start, and especially in the Wild when they had more time together to bond. But since then, except for those few moments out on the road together, they hadn’t had the chance to spend all that much time together.

Still. He took a deep breath and entered the room.

Ryan and Gavin were sprawled out on the bed together. Ryan’s boots were off, and he’d untied his hair, letting it hang loose around his shoulders. It framed his face, made his features look softer somehow. Gavin was close by his side - head resting on Ryan’s chest, the other man’s arm around him. They must’ve been talking, but they both looked up when he entered, and his face flushed.

It was exactly the sort of casual, intimate _closeness_ he wanted with both of them. What he’d had with Gavin, when the other man was still in the Plains, but had been denied since, and he felt a little shy and uncertain after how Gavin had pushed him away earlier.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he began.

“You’re not interrupting,” Ryan replied, immediately. He and Gavin looked at one another, then Ryan held out an inviting arm.

Jack hesitated - but Gavin gave him a reassuring smile, so he toed his shoes off and clambered onto the bed to sit on Ryan’s other side. Ryan put an arm around him and pulled him in closer. It was strange for him to be the one to initiate a touch, but Jack was hardly about to complain.

Gavin lifted himself up and leaned over Ryan, towards him. He hissed as he tugged at his wound, but seemed to swallow the pain down as he reached out to touch Jack’s arm gently.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry about before.”

Jack stared at him, and Gavin bit his lip and looked down.

“I should’ve just talked to you about… about all the shit that was on my mind. What happened with Ryan is kind of what I was scared of what might happen with you. I remembered Mark Nutt and how much trouble that caused and I just - got scared. I thought it might happen again. I should’ve guessed it’d be Ryan’s court that was most likely to do something like this, especially after what happened when I was there last time.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Ryan began, but Gavin shook his head.

“It is, though,” he insisted. “At the very least, I’m… I’m a contributing factor.”

“Either way,” Ryan said, and looked between the two of them, “Right now the strongest point in our favour is the fact that we’re all together in this. We’re gonna need all of us.”

Jack nodded agreement, and Gavin turned to him again.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You didn’t deserve me pushing you away, not after all you’ve done is support me.”

“It’s okay, Gav,” Jack said softly.

“No, I should’ve been honest.” Gavin swallowed, but Ryan gave him an encouraging nod. “I was just telling Ryan, but… back in the Nether, when he saved me… Midas thought that I was Robin. He told me that I looked like him. And just before I left… I _think_ I heard him right, although I was pretty out of it, but he said… he said I looked like my father.”

Jack froze, the impact of the words sinking in.

“Oh, Gavin,” was all he managed to say, and Gavin huffed out a laugh.

“Yup. Comes full bloody circle, doesn’t it? But that’s one reason I have to go. He has the answers I need, and somehow they’re tied to all the rest of this. So I need to go find him. Talk to him.”

Jack bit his lip. He didn’t like it, yet he had some sense - he couldn’t explain what it was, almost a premonition - that this was going to happen. That it _had_ to happen.

“We’re not trying to stop you,” he murmured. “We just want you to be safe.”

“I know,” Gavin said, but pressed his lips together, determined. “Answers don’t come to you if you sit around waiting. You have to go out and get them.”

Jack nodded. A thoughtful, lingering silence fell between them - it was warm in the room, with the fireplace glowing pleasantly, nothing but the gentle crackling of the flames disturbing them. After a while, Gavin tapped Ryan’s leg and Jack looked over in time to see Ryan help Gavin to sit up, tugging him across his lap so that he could lean over and reach out to kiss Jack. Jack moved in automatically - for a moment, as their lips met, he felt self-conscious about Ryan being so close and watching them. He was right behind Gavin, hands around his waist, holding him up. But it faded away as he got lost in the now familiar feeling of Gavin’s lips against his, the warmth of his body, the way it made the magic inside him rise up like a tide, breaking over him in waves. 

When they pulled apart he saw Ryan watching them, blue eyes blazing so intensely that it made Jack shiver. He started to pull back, but Ryan reached out and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

Jack glanced at Gavin. The other man seemed a bit dazed, lips parted and still catching his breath - but he looked between the two men almost eagerly, waiting for them to make a move. Jack turned back to Ryan and the other man moved in to kiss him, next.

Even if he’d been expecting it, it still sent a sudden thrill through him. His hands rose to tangle in Ryan’s hair, the other man’s free hand coming down to the back of his neck, tugging him in closer. 

It was intense, just like everything about Ryan was - his motions fierce and claiming, quickly taking control. Jack closed his eyes - he’d thought about this, of course he had, but somehow he hadn’t realised until this moment just how _close_ they’d gotten - since the first time they properly interacted during the games, how under Ryan’s harsh exterior he’d realised the other man did respect him. And in the Wild, when all barriers were down, how quickly things had changed. How after Geoff’s death - and even now, despite having him back, that still made him ache to think about - Ryan had immediately been at his side, ready to support him. They’d both changed a great deal since they met, but every path they’d gone down had led to here, and now, and Ryan’s warm hands against his skin, and the blaze of magic between them.

They broke apart, both breathing heavily, and for a moment Jack could only lean against Ryan, their chests pressed together. He could feel the other man’s heart pounding, frantic and fast as a bird’s.

“Oh,” was all he managed to breathe out, a bit senselessly.

It would’ve been a nice moment, except sudden, slow clapping broke out just behind them.

“Nice,” Geoff’ voice drawled, and Jack turned to see his ghostly form standing by the bed. He met Jack’s eyes and grinned, shooting him a great big thumbs up.

“Geoff!” Jack squawked, jerking back and scrambling upright. Something guilty wormed at him, but Geoff just tilted his head.

“I didn’t say stop,” he said, and moved closer. “Been a long time coming, huh?”

Ryan turned to him, seeming concerned - but Geoff just sat on the end of the bed. He cast Gavin a quick smile before turning back to the other two.

“Don’t let me get in your way,” he said. And then, when they still stared at him in a stunned silence, “Or I can just disappear if I’m making it awkward.”

_He’s okay with it,_ Jack thought, and felt a great relief. Although they’d talked about this briefly in passing, part of him had wondered if, after so long alone in the Nether, Geoff might want some time with just Jack and Gavin to himself first. But it seemed the opposite had happened; after how sudden his death had been, he didn’t want to wait. And Jack remembered, then, what Geoff had told him right before he died: not to hang onto him. To do what he needed to make himself happy.

It seemed this made Geoff happy, too, if the softness in his eyes was anything to go by.

“Stay.” It was Gavin who said it, quietly; they all turned to look at him. His eyes were fixed on Geoff as he added, “After so long without you, I don’t want you to go again.”

Geoff’s lips twitched. He nodded and turned back to Ryan, who still looked a little uncertain.

“Got both my boys falling for you, huh?” he asked. “Guess it’s my turn next, then.”

Ryan laughed, but it was clear that Geoff meant it, and as they looked at each other Jack saw something pass between them. He thought, maybe, after so long in the Nether with Ryan’s mother, Geoff must feel he knew him better. It was something they should probably talk about, with or without him there.

“You saved my life earlier,” Ryan replied. “I owe you one.”

“I didn’t do it to get a favour in return,” Geoff informed him. “But you’re welcome. Going okay there, Gavvy?” he added.

Jack turned to Gavin in concern; he’d shifted to lie back against the pillows instead, eyes slipping shut now and then. He looked up, and gave a small smile.

“Side hurts,” he admitted. “I’ll be fine, though.”

“Well that puts a damper on my plans to be the ghost in the corner of the room watching you all fuck,” Geoff said, and Gavin huffed out a laugh.

“Geoff,” Jack chided, but fondly. He felt a sudden ache, wishing Geoff could be here physically, too - but with the portals Ryan had told them about, soon he would be.

Ryan had turned to kiss Gavin, softly. Both Jack and Geoff looked over, a little surprised. It was nice to see another side of him - a gentler side, as he tenderly smoothed Gavin’s hair back, careful not to press down on him too hard, one hand on his shoulder holding him steady so he wouldn’t jostle his injury.

It was sweet. But after everything that’d happened today, he figured Ryan probably needed some of that same gentleness, and reached out to him, tugging him back towards him.

“After all that happened, you need a break,” he said, guiding Ryan to lean back and shifting over him to lean down and kiss him. He saw Geoff move forward to see better. “You worked the hardest of all of us and now all this has happened…”

Ryan laughed, though it sharpened into a gasp when Jack’s lips pressed to his throat.

“I’d say the gods are against me with all the trouble that keeps being thrown my way,” he managed, “But since they don’t exist, I guess I’m just unlucky.”

“Some people think witches bring bad luck,” Gavin murmured beside them, one hand pressed to his side.

“Some people are fucking idiots,” Geoff replied immediately, glancing at him. “We’ve seen that with Ryan’s kingdom.”

“Well, whatever brought us all here together is definitely good luck,” Jack pointed out. He cupped Ryan’s cheek, heard his breath catch when he moved in to press their lips together again.

Gavin moved closer beside them. He couldn’t do much more than reach out to stroke Ryan’s hair as Jack kissed him, but the proximity meant they could all feel his magic; the bond between the three of them blurring together. Jack could feel Gavin’s pain, and the anxiety and stress brimming below Ryan’s surface - but his own gentle calm spread out to soothe them. It was nice to have Geoff there, too, watching over them, a reminder of just how far they had gone and what they’d achieved. 

And even if later he knew there was much more work to do - it was still good right now to forget, at least for a little while, with tender reassuring words and soft touches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [King Gavin](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/156532143579/witchymusic-had-some-art-block-so-i-painted-gavin) by witchymusic! It's so cute omg, thank you so much <3
> 
> Also, an awesome [aesthetic set of Weisheng](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/156503912564/miss-ingno-weishengs-sacrifice-king-of-the) by miss-ingno. I love it, thank you! <3
> 
> Although this chapter is a few days early, the next one might be a little later than one week (RTX this weekend)! I'll see how busy I am :')


	10. Chapter 10

Ryan felt like the last few days had all been a dream.

He stood outside the door to Jack’s chambers, feeling rather unsure of himself - and for once in his life unable to put on a mask and pretend that he wasn’t.

The bad side was like a nightmare, dredging up things he’d thought he’d long laid to rest, things he only now saw in his sleep. His mother, and all she brought with her. His court, turned against him, just as he’d feared would happen the second he loosened his grip.

But the good - the good was beyond anything he’d imagined. Last night spent with Gavin and Jack and Geoff - it was all Ryan had dared let himself hope for, ever since those few days during the games with Gavin. People he could trust, could let in - something he could now finally _have._

Waking up this morning had been strange, as it all slowly hit him again. That Geoff was _back_ , that they’d really all been to the Nether, the last remnants of the confused bad dreams he’d had about Tamora washed away by the bright morning sunlight streaming through the window. Realising he was in the Alps. Remembering that everyone was here with him. And then remembering the touch of Jack’s lips against his, Geoff’s warm eyes watching. He’d had to replay it over and over in his mind, convincing himself that it had been _real_.

But it was - and here _he_ was, now, standing outside the bedroom door, trying to gather himself enough to knock. He’d had breakfast, and gone to check on Gavin - now he needed to ask Jack to get him in touch with Mica and Kerry so he could sort out this clusterfuck in his kingdom-

But he couldn’t bring himself to enter. He was worried that things would be… awkward.

It was one thing for him and Gavin to continue on like nothing had happened after their kiss when working together back in the Stoneworld, letting it all develop unsaid. That worked for the two of them, but Jack wasn’t like that. He’d want to, gods forbid, _talk_ about it.

“There a reason you’re lingering out here like a bad smell?” a voice called out cheerfully behind him. Ryan spun around to find Michael walking down the hall, eyebrows raised as he passed. “What happened?”

“Michael,” Ryan replied. “Where are you off to?”

“Court shit,” Michael said. If he noticed Ryan had avoided the question, he didn’t comment.

“Ah yes,” Ryan replied, “That dreaded court shit. Everything going okay here?”

Michael nodded and grinned, shooting him a thumbs up.

“It’s great, actually. People are really pleased the Overlord is dead, even if we weren’t the ones to kill him. The alliance with the Desert is stronger than ever now Ray and I are married. Our success getting Geoff back means things will be great between us and the Plains. I’m about to give everyone a rundown of this whole portal business and your plans to create that transport system. Given how dangerous it can be to travel through parts of the Alps to move goods, I think it’ll be pretty popular.”

Ryan nodded, but he couldn’t help the lurking unease he’d felt since Jack told him what was going on back in the Stoneworld. Michael turned to leave again, and he called after him, abruptly:

“What do they think of me, here?”

Michael paused, looking back over his shoulder. A flash of worry crossed his face, but Ryan’s own expression gave nothing away, and it passed.

“People are… coming around,” he replied, finally. “I mean, it’s hard to get rid of long-lasting tensions, but the fact that you despise the previous generations of Haywoods helps.” 

Ryan gave a slow nod, and Michael stepped back towards him, smiling.

“I think it will all be okay,” he said.

The words were simple, trite even, but somehow they helped. Once Ryan had thought the Alpine kingdom brutish; now he sought its approval almost meekly. But he still had his pride - and his anger at what had happened in his own kingdom - so he didn’t let it show, just nodded.

Michael clapped him on the shoulder, and Ryan couldn’t help but smile as he watched the other man leave. He would’ve liked to sit in on the court session, catch a glimpse of how Michael did things - but he had his own kingdom to attend to.

He turned back to the door and finally reached out and knocked, not giving himself the chance to second guess any further.

“Come in,” Jack’s voice called.

Ryan entered, only to pause immediately. Jack was sitting on the edge of his bed; beside him was Geoff, in the Sight. They both turned to look at him, and Geoff waved.

“Is this a bad time?” Ryan asked, warily.

“Not at all,” Jack replied, and gave such a warm smile that a little of Ryan’s nerves eased. “We were actually just talking about you.”

“Should I find that ominous?” Ryan asked, walking towards them and moving to sit on the edge of the writing desk close to the bed.

“Ominous!” Geoff cried indignantly. “You’re one to talk about being ominous. But no, we were just discussing, y’know, where to go from here after your super intense make out with Jack yesterday.”

It took all Ryan’s self control to keep a straight face.

“Well, if you’re putting it that way…”

“I put it many ways,” Geoff informed him, “And in many things, and in many people.”

Ryan stared at him, bemused, and Jack rolled his eyes. If Geoff had been physically next to him, he probably would’ve elbowed the other man.

“What Geoff is not so eloquently trying to say is that he likes you.”

“Oh,” was all Ryan managed to say. Jack put it so simply that he didn’t quite know how to respond.

Geoff looked rather flustered at that. He stared indignantly at Jack, hands fidgeting at his sides. Ryan had to stifle a laugh; he’d nearly forgotten, these six months, what it was like to see the other man all riled up like that. He’d used to take a mean pleasure in it, now he just found it endearing. He’d _missed_ it.

“Jack’s oversimplifying shit,” Geoff replied finally, and took a deep breath. “Look, we all know you're into Gavin. That’s been clear from day one-”

“It’s different with Gavin,” Ryan cut in, before anyone could get too far. They turned to him, and he faltered for a moment before continuing, “It’s… hard to explain. It’s easy, I guess that’s the best way of putting it. We have a… similarity in experience that just makes it… well, _easy_.” He paused, swallowing, unsure if he was getting this across right. “With other people I find it harder.”

They nodded, patiently, and Ryan pushed off the desk and walked towards the bed.

“With you, Jack,” he said. “We’ve gotten to know each other far better these last six months, even if much of that time wasn’t actually spent in person. I enjoy your company. I do like you a lot.”

It wasn’t as hard to admit as he’d expected, and the bright, warm smile Jack gave made it more than worth it.

“Really feeling the love here,” Geoff began, and Ryan rolled his eyes and turned to him.

“I was getting to you,” he said, and Geoff’s face softened into something just as uncertain as Ryan’s own. Somehow that was reassuring, realising that he wasn’t the only one here who, for all that they’d been thinking about this a long time, wasn’t quite confident actually going through with it.

“I missed you while you were away,” he said, “And I’m glad we resolved our differences before you died. As long as you’re still in the Wild, I’d appreciate your help with all this shit going on in my kingdom. I’d like to take this slowly,” he added, glancing between both of them, “But I would like to take it _somewhere_.”

The silence that followed this statement was brief, but felt like a lifetime to Ryan, even if he kept his jaw tight and tried to look confident. Then Geoff began to nod, slowly, and smiled at Ryan.

It was the sort of smile Ryan had seen him give Jack, even Gavin sometimes, but that in all Geoff’s glares and sulking he’d never imagined would be directed at him. His heart pounded as he remembered how he used to see the other man - how his resentment had only made him notice Geoff’s lack of decorum, how he always looked a bit sleepy and the wrong side of drunk, how his casual style of leadership had made Ryan’s skin crawl, frustrated at how easily it seemed like it would be for someone to come along and topple the whole thing.

But how he saw him now - maybe absence really did make the heart grow fonder. It was nice just to see him smiling, even after six months in that hell, nice to see the gentleness in his tired eyes, the mischievous twitch to his grin.

_You could have all that. You_ can _have all that._

“We’re in agreement on that, then,” Jack said. “And you’re right, in a way, about how it’s easier with Gavin - after all, it’s just him. Geoff and I have been together longer.” He glanced at Geoff, reaching out for him before letting his hand fall back, realising they couldn’t touch. “But, you know… not everything has to be the same between everybody.”

“Like how Michael and Ray are closer,” Ryan said slowly - testing the waters - he saw Geoff’s eyes widen, Jack looking startled before smiling and nodding.

“Yes. Exactly like that.”

_So they want all of them, too. So we really are doing this._ He couldn’t help his smile, and after a moment the others were grinning as well. Jack rose and stepped towards him, reaching out to fold Ryan’s hands in his own - soft and warm, slowly becoming as familiar to Ryan as Gavin’s own calloused palms and thin fingers. Getting used to each of them on some new terms.

“Can I?” Jack asked, quietly.

Ryan nodded, and this time Jack was the one to lean in and initiate the kiss, one hand wrapping around the back of Ryan’s head, tugging him down and tilting his head to angle their lips together. It was strange letting someone else take control, but Ryan trusted him enough not to care.

When they pulled apart, Geoff had risen from the bed, too, striding closer.

“That’s two you owe me,” he said, something wistful in his voice. It must be hard, Ryan thought with a pang, being separated from them all by this cursed distance after so long in another world.

“You’ll get spoiled plenty once we’re all together, after being away for so long,” Jack told him, but pressed a kiss to his fingertips and reached out, touching it to Geoff’s ghostly lips. Even if no actual contact was made, it made the other man smile. “I’m going to go see how Gavin’s doing. I’ll let you two talk.”

Ryan nodded. He hated that he still felt a bit nervous when Jack left the room - after all, he and Geoff hadn’t always gotten on so well, and even since reuniting, they hadn’t been _alone_. But he moved to sit down on the bed again, and after a moment Geoff sighed and sat next to him, too. The door shut quietly behind Jack, and there they were. Alone.

“I’d like you to inform Mica and Kerry of my plans,” Ryan said. Might as well start with business. “And let them know that I appreciate their loyalty.”

“Of course. I already told them everything Jack told me the other night.”

“I’m glad they’re alright.” He looked down at his hands. “Truth be told, this entire business has taken me a little by surprise. I _should’ve_ expected it, but I suppose I was so swept up in the excitement of going to the Nether that I didn’t stop to think about how vulnerable I was leaving my kingdom.”

“Hey, I’m hardly going to complain about you rescuing me,” Geoff pointed out.

“Still. I left my people behind.” Ryan couldn’t help the slight bitterness that leached into his voice. “For so long I kept things under control and then in one crazy, impulsive moment I just - _left_.”

“We needed to know about the Nether,” Geoff pointed out.

“Still,” Ryan repeated, and sighed, reaching up to rub at his temples. “You know, back when we were first figuring out this whole plan to get you back… there was talk about all of us building the door but only Gavin going through to get you. Him being the only one who wouldn’t be leaving his entire kingdom in someone else’s hands and all that. Jack shot down that idea pretty damn quickly.”

“Do you regret it?” Geoff asked, and there was an almost hesitant note in his voice.

“Not for a second,” Ryan said, fiercely. “But I regret not dealing with these fuckers earlier on. I thought I was being hard enough on them. Careful enough. But if… if it had been Michael’s kingdom he’d’ve had them exiled or executed the second he became king. If it had been my _mother’s_ court,” he added - the words slipped out without him meaning to, and he paused. Just mentioning the woman had his stomach clenching.

“Your mother would’ve approved of them,” Geoff began, quietly.

“But in the same situation, she would never have let them stay. No matter the casualties, she would’ve dealt with them swiftly.”

“Harshly.”

“There are benefits to being harsh. I’m beginning to see that.” 

He turned away and heard Geoff let out a questioning murmur next to him, but didn’t know what else to say. His heart was pounding - these last few days he’d been more confused than ever. He’d grown comfortable in his role as king, especially the last few months, with the alliance going strong and the golem project developing. The coup was a sudden shock and had him questioning himself. He didn’t like that.

“Well, speaking of your mother’s crazy ideas,” Geoff spoke up then, “I’m pretty sure she was planning to steal my fucking body back there in the Nether!”  
  
“What?” Ryan demanded, turning back to him.

“Yeah! I just realised it the other night and it’s a pretty fucking freaky thought. She was gonna steal someone else’s body since hers is all rotted away and shit and before I came to rescue you she threw me in a fucking pit, probably intending to get back to the door and take my body before I could. Can you _imagine_? She might’ve convinced my entire kingdom it was me!”

Ryan snorted.

“Somehow I find that hard to imagine. Besides, Jack would’ve known it wasn’t you. All of us would.”

“Yeah, well try convincing the people of that! _Oh hey, it_ looks _like Geoff, but it’s actually dead Queen Haywood’s ghost possessing him!_ It’d have started a fucking civil war in the Plains! Anyway, my _point_ is - given that the bitch is nothing but a very shiny statue now - that your mother is an absolute fiend and the last person whose book I’d take a page out of. Unless it was to rip every single page out and burn the entire fucking thing, in which case, go for it. Gods. I spent six months with the bitch and every time I thought we’d hit the depths of the horrifying ideas her savage mind was able to produce, she’d somehow manage to sink even lower.”

Ryan couldn’t help but laugh, and Geoff grinned a little.

“I feel like a fucking prick now for not helping you out when we were younger. You know, when you came to the Plains.”  
  
“You weren’t to know,” Ryan said, without even really thinking about it.

“No, I… I shouldn’t have judged so quickly. Imagine that, the two of us taking her down together? Would’ve been epic.”

“What happened, happened. Besides, things aren’t so bad now, are they?”

“Aside from her lackeys trying to take over your kingdom?”

“Fair point,” Ryan muttered, but Geoff shifted closer to him on the bed.

“But hey,” he said, something far more gentle in his voice. “I understand why you killed her now. I… I know that ate you up for a while, but I was an ass to act like it made you a bad person. It didn’t. You saved a lot of lives. You should be proud of that.”

Ryan paused. He’d come to terms with Tamora’s death a while ago now, but it still warmed him to hear _Geoff_ say it, especially after all the fights they’d had before the other man died.

“I don’t regret it,” he said. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat to protect any of you. Especially after what she did to Gavin.”

He thought Geoff would smile at that, but for some reason something almost worried flickered across the other man’s face.

“What?” Ryan asked.

“Are you okay?” Geoff asked, slowly. “There’s… I don’t know how to describe it, but… maybe it’s just because I’ve been away so long, but something seems different about you.”

“In what way?”

“You’ve always wanted to stay in control. And even if now you’re letting us in, working together, since we got back from the Nether I… I don’t know. Hard to explain,” he added, frustrated, but Ryan knew what he meant.

Back out there on the road with Geoff, when the Endermen had passed him by without their usual accusing stares, he’d felt an odd peace. Like he’d finally figured out what he valued, had come to some sort of peace and balance. He’d accepted his mother’s death, and moved on from it. He was working with the others, he was with Gavin, he was about to travel to another _world,_ something previously unheard of.

But the Nether - _Tamora_ \- it’d changed something in him. Reignited his need for control, but with something darker to it. It scared him how much he’d been replaying the moment they reunited over and over in his mind, wishing he’d done things differently. Lunged forward and stabbed her, or sent blazing redstone to burn her. Hurt her, killed her, again. Not the same way he’d done it in their own world, to save his people and his kingdom. But for _himself_ , to avoid that betrayal he hadn’t seen coming. It was like winning an argument over and over in his head, except far more gruesome and bloody.

And even now - it scared him a little; the deep, simmering anger he felt at Claudius and the other councillors. Both for what they’d done, and for the fact that they were a remnant of _her_ rule - a remnant that he was now determined to wipe out, permanently this time.

He had the others. He _loved_ the others. But the fact was that Claudius and the rest were not just a threat to him, but to the balance they’d built up between all five kingdoms. And they couldn’t have that.

Perhaps it was frightening for Geoff to sense that in him - his anger, something too close to _hate_. But the more Ryan thought about it, the more _sure_ he somehow felt.

“I was devoted to my kingdom before,” he replied, slowly. “But I have something even more than that to protect and fight for, now. It’s given me more… motivation, I suppose. Are _you_ okay?” he added, not inclined to dwell on the topic. “How are you doing, after the Nether?”

Geoff’s face dropped a little.

“I was scared to sleep last night,” he admitted - it was strange to see him opening up when once he might’ve loathed to show any sign of weakness in front of the Stone king. “I thought I’d wake up there again. When I finally did sleep, the nightmares came.”

“It seems bad dreams have plagued all of us recently.”

“I’m sure I’ll eventually get over it. It’s just… yeah, it’s been a bit hard re-adjusting to, well, being alive. I keep being worried that I’ll suddenly be back there again. And I keep forgetting that I’m in a physical body now, one that can be hurt, injured… killed. It will pass,” he added, “But the six months did take its toll. I think it will help to be back with the rest of you.”

Ryan nodded, slowly.

“I’m working on it,” he began, and Geoff nodded, his smile returning.

“I know. It’s pretty fucking incredible, the work you’re doing with the portals. Not like your mother ever got shit like that done with the same powers. I know I never said it before - and I know it took some time for me to stop and think and actually _realise_ it - but I do admire you, Ryan, and all the stuff you built. Your fucking kingdom, it’s developing faster than anyone’s - except maybe Gav’s, but that’s different. Like shit, if anyone can’t see how much _good_ you’ve done for it, they must be fucking blind.”

A compliment shouldn’t mean so much to him, but Ryan felt his face heat. He nodded, and felt another swell of determination. Geoff was right - his kingdom needed him. He’d fight to get it back, would do whatever it took.

“Once you build that portal,” Geoff continued, “And we get your castle back, you’ll have to show me all that stuff in your lab that you managed to impress Gavin so much with. See if you can’t impress me as well.”

“That could definitely be arranged,” Ryan replied, and liked the mischievous grin Geoff gave him.

“Good, because it’s not just Jack and Gav I have to make up the lost time with. Now get back to work,” he ordered with a laugh. “I’ll go let Mica and Kerry know what’s going on.”

“See you soon,” Ryan replied, without really thinking about it, and Geoff gave him an undeniably fond look.

“I will. Later, Ryan.”

 

* * *

 

It was cold out the back of the castle. The weak spring sun did little to warm Ryan as he stood, bent over the portal he was building, fusing blocks of stone together with flares of crimson redstone. The ground was hard and frozen beneath his feet, and aside from the few guards patrolling the castle wall nearby, all was still and quiet. It had been snowing earlier, gently - now the sky was bright and clear, but the air still frigid around him. He didn’t mind; it was better than the constant heat of the Nether. He’d had enough of that for a lifetime.

“Interesting place to put a doorway,” Ray called out behind him.

Ryan turned and saw him emerging from the back doors of the castle. He was smiling, and his hair was tousled like he’d only just gotten out of bed. It was a nice look on him, Ryan couldn’t help but think. Usually Ray looked as carefully put together as Ryan always tried to be. Still - his arm was still bound in a bright white sling, and the sight of it made another pulse of anger shoot through Ryan.

_Another one of us hurt. He was injured coming to save me._

Still - he smiled back, and turned to look at the doorway he was building. The courtyard led out to nothing but the wall around the Alpine capital, a wall which ringed the mountainside, a steep drop leading down the other side of it. The city itself was built around the mountain, with fierce ridges and slopes at every turn. It made it hard to attack from any angle except the front gate, especially in Winter, when Ryan could only imagine the sorts of storms and gales that might batter the cliffside.

“There is a purpose behind it,” he replied. “This door only goes one way for now, but once I build a portal to the Alps from the Stoneworld, it’s where people will emerge. If any of our enemies were to find it, well - we’d hardly want them popping up in the middle of the throne room, would we?”

“Bit of a safety hazard,” Ray agreed, approaching and leaning against a nearby wall to watch Ryan work.

“Exactly,” Ryan said. He lifted another block of stone and placed it carefully atop the others, painstakingly lining up the edges of the cube. “So Michael’s having it built out here, and he’s going to put another wall around it, and a locked door with a constant guard.”

“So it’ll essentially be a shed out the back of the castle containing the portal,” Ray said flatly, and Ryan laughed.

“Essentially, yes. We don’t exactly have much time to devote to interior design.”

He pressed his hand to the stone and called on his gift. The piece of rock blazed red as it turned to redstone, another segment of the slowly forming rectangular doorway. When he glanced at Ray, the other man was watching him carefully, seeming mesmerised by the light.

“Need any help?” he asked finally, and Ryan laughed.

“Not really, though thanks for offering. I mean, I’ve got everything here and I’ve built one before, so I know it works. It’s mostly just assembly. Plus…” He trailed off, nodding towards Ray’s injured arm, and the other man looked down and pulled a face.

“Good point,” he said, and sighed. “Can’t exactly do much heavy lifting around here.”

There was a tinge of bitter frustration to his voice that Ryan didn’t like.

“Heavy lifting isn’t always physical,” he pointed out. Ray gave him a quizzical look, and he added, “I’m going to need everybody’s support to get rid of Claudius. You don’t have to be fighting on the front lines to play a role.”

“True,” Ray said. He still looked a bit upset, though, fidgeting and adjusting his sling, and Ryan beckoned him over. Ray looked up, surprised, but inched closer.

“Hold this stone steady for me while I fuse them together,” Ryan said. He took Ray’s hand and put it at the top of the pile of blocks he was stacking. “Press down - just like that, good. Thank you.”

Ray smiled a little. Ryan put his own hands either side of the stone. It glowed red as he called on his gift and the edges where it met the block below it turned to redstone. Ray’s face was lit up with a crimson glow; his eyes were lowered, biting his lip a little in concentration. It reminded him of Gavin, down in the lab with him, just the two of them working together. That had been good. Geoff had been gone, but the two of them had been so _focused_ , so productive, worked in such rhythm with one another.

That block finished, he reached down and heaved another great, solid block of stone up. His muscles ached as he lifted it; the Overlord throwing him around back in the furnace had left bruises that still hadn’t quite finished healing. But he caught Ray watching him and some lingering vanity refused to let him pull a face or make any noise to show he was feeling strained.

They continued to work in silence for a little while. Finally, Ray turned to him again.

“Are you worried?” he asked.

“Hm?” Ryan had been distracted by his work, but when he looked over at Ray he saw how concerned the other man looked. 

“About your kingdom. Are you worried?”

“My allies were run out of the Stoneworld,” Ryan replied - drily, but not unkindly. “My crown has been stolen, my castle taken over, my enemies hold my throne. Yes, I’m starting to get a _tad_ concerned!”

Ray laughed a little.

“I mean, true. Once you might not have seemed like you were. You used to be so in control of everything - I guess I just know you better now, to be able to tell. But I’d be worried, too.”

“I’d fucking well think so.”

Ray laughed again. He took a step back, scratching at his arm under the bandages.

“I used to be scared when I first inherited,” he admitted. “I was… I was so young, so damn inexperienced. If someone had swooped in to try and take the crown, they probably could’ve. The only thing stopping them was the Alpine alliance - Michael’s father wouldn’t have stood for someone getting in the way of the bloodline. That’s why it’s nice to have allies.”

“Indeed,” Ryan replied - then added, more softly, “I am less worried than I might’ve been if I wasn’t friends with all of you now.”

He bent to pick up another piece of stone, and when he straightened up, Ray had moved closer again. There was something amused sparkling in his eyes.

“Friends?” he asked.

“What would you call us?” Ryan replied, feeling self-conscious suddenly.

“Oh no, we’re definitely _friends_ , just… Most friends don’t…”

Ray trailed off. He was the one who seemed self-conscious now; whatever joke he’d been about to make had apparently falling flat before it even left his mouth.

“Don’t what?” Ryan pressed. He turned to face Ray and didn’t miss how the other man’s gaze flickered down to his lips, then back to his eyes. He took a step closer, amused at the way Ray’s eyes widened a little.

“Want to kiss one another?” he continued - Ray looked startled, and Ryan laughed. “You wanted to kiss Michael, back when you were _friends_. Remember?”

Ray’s cheeks flared red.

“Don’t bring that up again,” he replied, but he didn’t sound upset.

Ryan chuckled, low and genuinely amused. Ray’s lips twitched too, now.

“I’m glad you’re okay, by the way,” he said, his eyes not leaving Ryan’s now, gaze dark and intense. “I wasn’t just worried about Michael. I was worried about you, too, when you were captured by the Overlord. Are you alright?”

He reached up and touched the scars on Ryan’s cheek lightly. His fingers were cool and his touch soft, but Ryan tilted his head away anyway. The marks were sensitive as they healed; he’d nearly forgotten about them until Ray brought them up.

“Not my first time getting scars,” he replied bluntly.

“That’s not what I meant,” Ray said.

Ryan couldn’t help his huff as he turned away to adjust the stone doorway again, refocusing on his work.

“Are you asking about my mother?” His voice came out harsher than he’d intended, but he couldn’t help it. “It seems like everyone is, lately.”

“It had to be hard,” Ray murmured.

“It was,” Ryan said, and took a deep breath. “But I’ll get over it. That’s all you _can_ do. When life throws shit at you, all you can try to do is learn from it.”

“I like that,” Ray replied quietly. There was no pity in his voice, at least. Ryan appreciated that. He and Ray had never really discussed his mother before, he realised. It must’ve been strange for Ray to meet her in the Nether. 

“Your parents,” he said abruptly - he was curious, more than anything. “I never met them. The Desert was hardly on the best terms with the Stoneworld. They probably disliked my mother as much as anybody. I know what Michael’s father would have done if he was in my position - but what do you think your parents would do, if this coup had happened in the Desert when they were in charge?”

Ray was silent for a moment. Ryan figured he was just thinking about it, and continued to work - but the quiet stretched on, and when he finally turned to the other man, he froze at the look on his face.

Ray was always so stoic that it was a shock to see him suddenly, now, look so fucking upset. His face was pale and strained, and if Ryan didn’t know better he’d say the other man almost seemed about to cry.

“They would… I… I don’t know,” Ray said, his voice tight and croaky. “It’s been three years and I-”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Ryan replied quickly. “Shit, are you…”

He stopped working and turned properly to the other man. Ray’s eyes were red, and his good arm was wrapped around himself. For a helpless moment Ryan had no idea what to do, and felt terrible.

“I thought it was a simple question,” he said weakly. “But I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s fine. It’s not your fault,” Ray said with an embarrassed laugh. He took a deep breath and reached up, swiping at his eyes as he gathered himself a little. “It’s just that I saw my mother’s drawings in the Nether and it… it made me miss them. Three years sounds long but it’s _not_ , not really, not for parents. I know I should get over it-”  
  
“No,” Ryan cut in, abruptly. “No, you… you don’t have to.”

He felt awkward; his own parents were dead, yet the circumstances had been so different that he didn’t have that same deep-seated grief that he could see resurfacing in Ray now.

“I miss them a lot,” Ray said, and sniffed, wiping his face again with his sleeve. “I wish I could ask them sometimes about all - this.” He didn’t specify, but Ryan knew what he meant. _Us. The six of us._ “See what my mother would’ve had to say about it.”

He gave another shaky laugh and Ryan automatically moved forward, reaching out to comfort him. Ray stepped towards him and let Ryan wrap his arms around him, burying his face in the other man’s shoulder for a moment, leaning against him. There was a pause, but it was a comfortable one; Ray felt very warm against him in the cold courtyard, and the rhythmic rise and fall of the other man’s chest against his soothed Ryan, too.

Finally Ray straightened up. He looked up at Ray; face still pale, eyes red rimmed, but looking stronger now.

“They’d use their strength,” he said firmly, apparently going back to Ryan’s earlier question.

“Strength,” Ryan replied.

“What do you have that Claudius doesn’t?” Ray urged. “Why are you king?”

“It’s my birthright,” Ryan began, but Ray shook his head.

“It’s your gift,” he said, and touched Ryan lightly on the chest. “Show them how they need you. You’ve already used the redstone to make golems - no other Stone king had ever done that before - but it’s more than just that. You and I, our gifts are special. Different to the others. They bring life.”

Ryan stared at him. He felt something touch his leg, and looked down; a red flower was swelling from the ground near his feet, sprouting from the richening earth and growing up towards them on a long, winding stem. Ray reached down and plucked it, reaching out with deft fingers to slip it through the lapel of Ryan’s shirt.

“Without me, my people would starve,” he said softly. “Without your gift, the Stoneworld would have no light, no heat, the greenhouses would freeze over… they would die. You keep your kingdom’s heart beating. Show them how they need you,” he repeated. “Your people will follow.”

Ryan nodded, but although the words were reassuring, he couldn’t help the sense of dread he still felt, the hesitance that had paralysed him. Ray noticed; he took Ryan’s hand in his, squeezing gently.

“Once you would have jumped on your horse and ridden back to the Stoneworld to take the crown back the second you heard what had happened,” he pointed out - Ryan couldn’t deny it. “What are you scared of now?”

Ryan looked away.

“I don’t know,” he murmured.

He turned aside and laid his hand on the doorway, again. His head was spinning a little. The Stoneworld seemed very far away, here in the Alps, and although he knew he had to, part of him didn’t want to go back, wanted to put the fight off as long as possible - Ray was right. A year ago he’d’ve been charging back in there as soon as he could. But he was scared, now, even if maybe he hadn’t realised it until now. He was scared of the dreams he didn’t remember. He was scared of freezing before Claudius, just like he had when he saw Tamora again. He was scared of how deeply he wished he had hurt her, had killed her all over again.

He called on his gift again, lighting the rock with another flare of red. _Light. Warmth._ And something he remembered telling Gavin what felt like forever ago now. _To my people I am like a god._ It was a silly line - overly dramatic as always - but the notion stirred something in him now. He felt lost as he worked, lost in the red - too much of it, filling his head like a bleed inside his skull, or a dust storm in the desert-

But Ray put a hand on his back then, and it seemed to snap him away from whatever daze he’d fallen into, bringing him back to himself. He turned and managed a smile at the concern in the other man’s eyes, reaching up to cup his cheek, thumbing away the streak left by a stray tear.

“We’ll all be okay,” he said, not sure which of them he was trying to reassure - but Ray nodded, leaning into his touch.

“It was good to spend time with Michael in the Nether,” Ryan continued, wanting to move on to nicer things. Still thinking about what Ray had said before, about friends and allies and whatever else it was that they were. “I’d like to see more of both of you.”

Something flickered across Ray’s face. The next thing Ryan knew, the other man was moving forward, and suddenly there was a warm mouth over his. He stiffened, surprised - he’d meant what he said, but he’d expected a _little_ more buildup than this - but Ray seemed to know what he was doing, and after a moment Ryan gathered himself and steadied the other man. He took control, turning Ray to press him to the wall nearby, kissing him back eagerly.

It had been different with Jack, soft and gentle the way everything about Jack was. Ray was so quiet that it took Ryan by surprise how intense he was here, suddenly - rougher than he’d expected, teeth scraping against Ryan’s bottom lip as he brought his good hand up to fist in the front of Ryan’s shirt, yanking him closer.

It felt like something he’d been waiting too long for, like another piece slipping into place. Ray fit into his arms differently to Gavin; shorter, softer to touch, but it felt no less _right._

They pulled apart. Ray’s face was flushed and he looked a little surprised with himself. Ryan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, okay then,” he said, and Ray scoffed.

“Why wait?” he pointed out, though he sounded a bit flustered. “And before you ask, yes, Michael and I talked about this. We talked about Gavin, too.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“And if you say you want to get to know Michael better,” Ray continued, “He’s just as eager.”

Ryan nodded. He reached up and straightened his shirt, a little shellshocked himself by how quickly things were moving along, and Ray laughed at the look on his face.

“Back to work?” he said softly, and twisted out of Ryan’s arms to head back to the portal. He gave Ryan a pointed look, and Ryan nodded, moving to follow him - glad when Ray made no move to go back into the castle. It meant they could talk about this - where it left them, what was coming next - and it was nice, too, to have the company, keeping him out of his own head.

 

* * *

 

_Bored as all holy hell_ was the only way to describe Gavin as he sat in bed, covers tucked up around him against the chill in the air, staring at the ceiling and slowly losing his mind.

He’d tried to get up several times now, and every time a doctor would come along and tell him in no uncertain terms to get the fuck back into bed. His side did ache, dully, but not as badly as it had before. Not enough to stop him wanting to get the hell out of here.

He had a book - some adventure novel that Michael used to like as a kid - and it had been fun for a while, reading it and getting a sense of one of the things that had shaped the other man into what he was today. But it had lost its appeal a while ago, and now that he was left with nothing but his own thoughts, the urge to get up and _flee_ was growing ever stronger, like a persistent itch or ants crawling under his skin.

He wanted to go after Midas. 

The answers he needed were out there, and it was unbearable to have to wait. The longer he had to think about it, the more confused he got about why the Gold king hadn’t killed him. Why he’d tried to _help_. Why he’d never come here.

Not only that. As terrible as the Nether had been - Gavin had almost enjoyed going there. There were no _people_ there, and it had been good to get away from the kingdoms and the courts. Now he wanted to leave again, because Ryan was in trouble and while he wanted to help he also sort of couldn’t deal with it, not right now. Not when he was part of the reason it had happened.

_Leave._

_The End._

_Midas._

They all called to him, just like the Wild used to. Gods, the _Wild_ \- how he longed to be back there alone. Just himself and his kingdom and the _quiet_ , the trees, the mobs. The soothing presence of magic all around him. He’d miss the others, of course - but right now, he felt claustrophobic. Too many people around him, too much going on, too many eyes watching, watching, _watching_ him.

A knock at the door made him look up. Michael was leaning into the room, a mischievous grin on his face. He was all dressed up, shaved and in his fine robes - he’d just been to a meeting, Gavin knew.

“Hey there,” he said, and Michael waved.

“Hey,” he replied, “How are you feeling?”

“Better! A _lot_ better,” Gavin said, but Michael narrowed his eyes. He sauntered over to the bed and threw himself down beside Gavin, making the bed bounce a little.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re just saying that to avoid having to stay sitting in here?” he demanded, and Gavin laughed guiltily and threw his hands up.

“But it’s so _boring_ , Michael!” he cried. “There’s nothing to bloody do!”

“You have a book right there!”

“I want to go walk around and explore,” Gavin complained, and leaned towards Michael, poking him in the chest and attempting his best pleading expression; lip stuck out, eyes wide. From the look on Michael’s face, it was not particularly impressive. “You said you’d show me the Alps, remember?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll take you out to explore the mountains. It’ll be great - until your fucking intestines start falling out everywhere, no _thank you_. Rest,” Michael ordered, “And _heal._ You have time, Gav.”

Gavin scowled, his good mood dissipating in an instant.

“It doesn’t feel like I have time,” he muttered. He didn’t intend for Michael to hear, but the other man frowned, and Gavin sighed. He shifted away from Michael and got out of the bed, wincing for a moment as pain speared through his side. Michael leaped up to grab him, but Gavin waved him off - he hobbled towards the big window looking out over the city and sat down in the chair before it.

Michael relaxed, realising he wasn’t attempting an escape. He walked over to open the window - it was nice, the fresh air - then squashed into the chair next to Gavin. With the window open there was a brisk chill in the air, and Michael swept his bearskin cloak around them both, tucking Gavin against his side. He couldn’t help but smile again at that; it was so warm next to him, and he liked the feeling of Michael’s strong arm around his shoulders.

“You do have time,” Michael repeated softly after a moment. “The rest of us will all deal with the Stoneworld.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Gavin said. He bit his lip. “Remember my… my weird premonition dreams?”

“Yeah…”   


“I’m more certain than ever that… that something bad’s about to happen. That this shit with Ryan is just the beginning and - and I don’t know what’ll happen, but… I feel like we can’t just sit around. We have to try and fix this before everything gets _worse_.” Even as he spoke, the constant dread built up in his stomach again, the same feeling that had him lurching awake after every bad dream, that made his heart pound when he dwelled on it and a bad taste rise at the back of his throat. “And as for me, I think I have to go and see Midas.”

Michael opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, Gavin put a hand on his chest.

“I _know_ \- you don’t like the idea. But Michael, lovely Michael - he told me he knows my father.”

Michael’s mouth snapped shut. He stared at Gavin for a moment, stunned.

“ _What?_ ” he demanded, finally.

“My father. Robin. Midas knew him. Right before I went through the portal, he said that we look similar.”

Michael took a moment to process this, Gavin watching nervously. Finally, Michael took a deep breath and shook himself.

“Probably has your giant fucking nose!” he declared.

“Hey!” Gavin squawked.

“Midas probably saw it and was like, _I know that nose anywhere, no one else could possible have a nose that big!_ Except then it turns out that it’s hereditary and gets passed down from father to son.”

Gavin couldn’t help his fit of giggles; part relief, part hysteria. Michael grinned at him as he tried to recover himself.

“No, but seriously,” Michael said finally, when Gavin had calmed down somewhat. “That’s… well, if I was you, I’d want to go, too. And we know by now that when you get an idea in your head there’s no point trying to stop you. One of us should go with you, though.”

“No!” Gavin cried, a little too quickly. Michael looked startled, then a bit hurt, and he quickly continued, “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You all need to stay here in your kingdoms or there’ll be trouble like there has been with Ryan. We can’t keep all going away.”

Michael looked away. He didn’t answer, but Gavin knew he could tell he was right.

“Only I can go,” he continued softly, and swallowed. “Seems like fate, doesn’t it?”

“When will you go?” Michael asked, voice tight.

“As soon as Ryan finishes his door and we’re all able to go back to the Wild. I know it’s soon, but I just… I feel like there’s no time to waste.”

“Okay,” Michael said. He was looking away, and Gavin was worried that he might be annoyed with him - but after a moment he took a deep breath and turned to Gavin with a smile. He hardly looked happy about all this, but he did look resigned. “Time to finally find out who you are.”

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed, and leaned against his side. Michael hugged him closer.

“Are you scared?”

Gavin hesitated.

“Weisheng told me I might not like the answers I find,” he began. “That my father is - well, I suppose a thief, a bandit. A bad man. But I don’t care about that. I just want to _know_ , and know why Midas knows him, and know why all _this_ is happening, where I fit in… Ryan’s father used to make clocks, you know? It was kind of a hobby of his. He showed me some in the Stoneworld. Clocks with gears that turn…” He gestured with his fingers; turning cogs building upon one another. 

“Each piece pushes another and everything only moves because of everything else. A chain of motion - he didn’t need redstone to do it. It feels like that, right now. Like I’m just… one tiny wheel, and everything so far has been pushing me, and because of that _I’ve_ pushed other things, and it’s all just turning, turning… And I guess soon we’ll strike midnight and something will pop out of the hatch all _cuckoo-_ what?” he demanded, because the look on Michael’s face was ridiculous; all screwed up and incredulous.

Michael pulled an even worse face, and Gavin slapped at him.

“ _What?”_ he repeated, indignantly.

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” Michael asked, and burst out laughing. “There’s only one fucking thing going _cuckoo_ here and it’s you!”

Gavin shoved at him, furious but unable to stop his snort of laughter.

“Excuse you!” he cried. “This is my dramatic metaphor!”

“You’ve been spending _far_ too much time with Ryan,” Michael laughed. “But no, I get what you’re saying. I still wish I could go with you. But I get it. You have to do this… maybe you’re meant to.”

Gavin nodded. He rested his head against Michael’s shoulder again, and the other man’s hand stroked absently down his arm.

“Sometimes,” Michael began then, a little hesitantly, “I wonder if I’m as much like my parents as everyone says. Or if I’m too much like them, maybe. In the Nether, I… I couldn’t stop thinking about how my father must’ve gone there after he died. He wouldn’t have just given in to the Overlord. I know it - he’d’ve fought every fucking step of the way. I guess in the end all he could do was finish his work and pass into Eternity. But if I’d met him, the way Ryan met Tamora… I don’t know if he would’ve been proud of me, or if he’d’ve demanded to know what the hell I thought I was doing working with the Stoneworld!” 

He snorted, but there wasn’t much humour in it.

“He probably wouldn’t have been able to see past all that like I did,” he said, and looked away.

“He didn’t have the same experiences as us,” Gavin pointed out, looking up at him. “Tamora probably met him, there. You should ask Geoff if she ever said anything about him.”

“I don’t know if I want to know,” Michael admitted. “Like Ryan said - sometimes it’s better just to leave things as they are. Grieve. Mourn. Get over it. No sense dragging up old ghosts. I guess you’ll have to do that with your father,” he added, uncertainly. “Once you find out?”

Gavin bit his lip.

“Ryan told me what the Overlord said,” he said, softly. “It feels strange to finally know that he’s for-sure dead. I guess some part of me always wondered if they might be alive out there. If they ever wondered where I was. I still don’t know about my mother… Midas might know.”

“Off to find answers,” Michael said, and Gavin smiled faintly.

“Off to find answers,” he repeated, and closed his eyes.

He felt Michael squeeze his hand, and shuffled closer to him, resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Michael’s hand came up to nestle in his hair, stroking gently, almost absently. It was comfortable - nice - and Gavin rather wanted to kiss him, suddenly. He shouldn’t, he knew - not with everything going on, not after what had happened with Ryan’s court, what still might happen in the Plains. But after talking to Jack - after getting Geoff back - he wanted this, wanted something nice, wanted to _forget_ and pretend, if only for a minute, that everything might be fine. That they might be able to have everything they so desperately longed for, what sometimes he thought might end up being nothing but a dream.

He opened his eyes and turned his head to press a kiss to Michael’s cheek, a little shyly. Michael’s eyes widened in surprise, but he turned towards Gavin and reached out, grasping his face with both hands. His smile was brilliant, and his hands were so warm, and for a moment Gavin adored him - simple, steady Michael, whose very presence somehow always made things feel easier.

“Want this?” Michael breathed - his eyes excited but soft.

“More than anything,” Gavin replied, before he could stop himself.

Michael was gentle and careful as he leaned in, angling Gavin’s head so that their lips met perfectly. It wasn’t their first kiss - gods, he still remembered _that_ , back in the Wild, so soon after they’d lost Geoff - but it still drowned everything else away for a moment, left him only able to focus on Michael’s warm body against his, the gentle pressure of his kiss, his thumbs stroking over Gavin’s cheekbones, careful not to press against him too heavily. He clutched Michael’s shoulders, hands sinking into the sun-warm, soft fur of his cloak. Everything about the other man seemed to flood his senses; for a moment he was hit with a sudden surge of _want_ \- to stay here in the Alps with the other man, to take their time, to know one another as deeply as they could.

But time was the one thing they didn’t have, and the second they broke apart that frantic panic washed back in, making his heart pound even as Michael reached up to brush his hair away from his face.

“Special Gavin,” he murmured, fondly, “With all your magic and your dreams.”

“Witch,” Gavin replied. “Tamora wouldn’t stop calling me _witch_.”

“Maybe I like witches.”

Gavin smiled a little, but it faded quickly. He leaned into Michael’s touch, reaching up to cover the other man’s hand with his own where it was still pressed to his cheek.

“They say bad things about me in the Stoneworld,” he whispered. “If you go there with Ryan, get ready to hear them. That’s part of why I don’t want to go back. I’ll go to the End, instead.”

Anger flared deep in Michael’s eyes, but his voice was as steady and gentle as before as he said, “We’ll deal with it.”

Gavin nodded. He closed his eyes before turning his face to press a kiss to Michael’s palm instead. The other man sighed contentedly, but then pulled away.

“I have another meeting in a minute,” he murmured.

Gavin couldn’t help his stab of disappointment - but Michael was already leaning in to kiss his forehead.

“But I’ll be back later,” he assured him. “With Ray. We can have some time together, _all_ of us.”

Gavin nodded, and Michael moved in and pressed another brief, firm kiss to his lips before rising. He opened the door only to freeze.

“Oh! Geoff!” he said, and Gavin jumped up a little too fast, gasping as he spun around and the motion pulled at his side. Sure enough, Geoff had been lurking outside - it was strange that he’d bothered to make himself visible in the empty hallway. He could’ve come right through the wall. “Hello there.”

“Michael,” Geoff replied, his voice warm and pleasant. Michael smiled at him, and Gavin had to laugh; it was always funny to see how shy Michael got around Geoff sometimes.

“I saw the door was shut,” Geoff commented, “So I figured I’d let you guys have your privacy for… whatever the fuck it is you were up to.”

“What,” Gavin said teasingly, “You don’t want to watch this time?”

Geoff laughed.

“That was mostly to stir up Ryan,” he said wickedly. He reached out, hand brushing through Michael’s shoulder as he made to leave. “Hey - we’ll talk later.”

Michael nodded and left for his meeting, Geoff slipping into the room in his place. Gavin limped towards him and the other man’s eyes flicked over him, concerned, as he went to sit back on the edge of the bed.

“You going okay, Gav?”

Gavin nodded. After the terrible terms they’d been on before Geoff died, he still felt a bit uncertain around the other man sometimes, but it never lasted more than a few moments. Now they fell back into their usual routine; Geoff settling comfortably next to him. Gavin wished he was really here; he wanted to lean against the other man’s side the way he always used to. Smell that familiar scent of leather, and the lavender oil the servants always sprinkled on his clothes, the faint underlying whiff of booze that he always seemed to bring with him. 

But the way Geoff sighed as he sat, that alone brought back a rush of memories - the other man heaving himself into his armchair at the end of a long day, or throwing himself into a haystack in the barns beside Gavin, or groaning as he rose after a night spent drinking late. It brought a smile to Gavin’s lips.

“Now that I’ve been in the Wild more,” Geoff said, “I took the time to actually explore all the shit that you built, and it’s fucking impressive, Gav. Like really, really fucking impressive.”

“Thanks,” Gavin said, with a flush of pleasure.

“I mean it! And a word kept coming to mind - I know you called the place Achievement City and it’s not exactly the most creative title-”

“Well. That went from compliment to insult about as quickly as I expected.”

“But another word sprang to mind when I was there. Get this - you ready? _Refuge_ ,” Geoff declared, complete with exuberant hand gesture. “Because you made it that - for all the others who were lost in the Wild. For Mica and Kerry when they had to flee the Stoneworld. I reckon if we get the word out about what’s actually in Achievement City right now, people will really get interested in it. And if this shit with Claudius goes sour, we can start sending our own propaganda into the city. Let people know that if they want to flee his reign, they’re able to go to the Wild for safety. Would that be okay with you?”

“Yes,” Gavin replied, a bit dazed by how fast this was all going. “I mean, of course, but-”

“Let them see who you really are,” Geoff said, and Gavin looked away, picking at a loose thread on the blankets.

“I need to find out who that is, first,” he muttered. And then, thoughtfully, “Son of a thief.”

“Robin,” Geoff replied. He must have heard it somewhere, from one of the others. Gavin looked up to find the other man staring at him - eyes a little sadder now, a little more thoughtful, but not angry. Not about to stop him. “I know you have to go. Jack told me. I’m not going to stop you like I did before.”

“Thank you.”

“You were right, you know,” Geoff added. “Way back when that damned scarf of yours was the only clue you had. The witches would’ve had the answers you needed. Imagine if I’d let you go back then - imagine if none of this had happened!”

Gavin’s lips twitched; those very imaginings had kept him up during long, lonely nights in the Wild before all the others came back.

“The beasts might’ve kept coming,” he pointed out. “We might never have known why. More people might’ve died. Things happened the way they happened, and in the end, we’re all together anyway.”

“True,” Geoff said, and sighed. “Just… be safe, won’t you? Please.” There was a soft, sad note in his voice now, and somehow that hurt more than if he’d been begging Gavin _not_ to go. If he’d been yelling, angry. “I can’t lose you twice.”

Gavin nodded. There was a lump in his throat and he suddenly couldn’t speak. He moved closer to Geoff and their heads bowed towards each other, but they couldn’t really touch. He could hear Geoff breathing, but couldn’t feel it against his own skin. For a moment he felt a fierce ache; wished he could just _stay_. That time would freeze, the clock would stop turning, and they’d be able to just be with one another. That he wouldn’t have to go.

 

* * *

 

Ryan worked hard late into the night. It was no easier making a portal to work just within their world; he still had to get the redstone just right. But finally he finished it, and there it was - a gleaming red rectangle, like the slash of a knife wound in the dark courtyard. Another doorway. Their way _back_. The Stoneworld and the Wild now just a step away.

He left to eat with the others, but the entire evening he found it hard to relax. A heavy sense of _almost_ seemed to be hanging over all of them. Almost time to go and take his crown back. Almost time for all six of them to finally, physically be in one place again. Almost time for Gavin to leave for the End.

Still. Despite the sickening nerves at the back of his mind, the atmosphere was cheerful enough as the people of the Alps threw a big, raucous feast. All of them there, talking and laughing - Michael was trying to keep the atmosphere light, and along with all the alcohol that was present, it worked - on the surface, it was bright. Nothing like what Ryan used to do in the Stoneworld. It was nice, a glimpse at what he could return to, once all this was over.

Geoff had already been to show himself to his own people, and as Ryan sat looking around at all the beaming faces, the band playing in the corner, the food being passed up and down the tables, he thought of how they’d be celebrating their king’s return over in the Plains, too. Jack had sent orders for the palace to send special food out to the people, and it must be one of the best days in the year over there right now. The same in the Desert, if Ray’s messengers had arrived by now.

But there would be the Stoneworld, dark and silent and gloomy beside the light of all the other kingdoms. The thought kept a coldness in his chest that nothing could wear away, even the warmth of the fire in the room, even the others’ smiles.

Still. He tried to swallow his negativity down, determined to try and enjoy himself, or at least to savour the others’ company. Afterwards, they all went to Michael’s big sitting room. It was rich and homely, with a roaring fire in the wall and roses in vases on the mantelpiece, a thick fur rug covering most of the floor. It was nice to all be together, and he thought with a pang of Geoff in the Wild alone.

Michael stood for a long time before his mother’s bearskin cloak hanging on the wall, staring up at it. No one seemed to want to interrupt him.

_We are all lost in thought_. Ryan looked over at one of the large chairs where Jack and Gavin lay together; Gavin’s head rested on Jack’s chest and the other man was carding his fingers through his hair, but both of them had an absence to their gaze, and they weren’t speaking to one another.

“Everything okay?” Ryan asked, looking between them as he walked over. He knew they’d talked - he’d been there - but he still remembered Gavin telling him how upset Jack had been with him, how he’d pulled away.

They both stirred as if waking, staring up at him. After a moment Gavin nodded, and Jack smiled and lifted the other man’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it.

Ray came back into the room then, from wherever it was he’d gone after dinner. His eyes met Ryan’s, and he walked over to him and took his hand, pulling him to sit on another couch with him. There was a funny stillness to everything that happened - it felt like their last night together, like every passing second should be savoured. Ray was a comfortable weight against his shoulder, and Ryan smiled as the other man nestled closer to him.

Michael turned from the wall and looked around at all of them. He smiled at Ray, but turned to join Jack and Gavin on their couch instead. Ryan remembered how he and Jack had gotten much closer - he slipped easily between the two of them now, shifting Gavin gently aside so he could squash in between them. Gavin laughed and leaned over to kiss him on the side of the neck, before giving Jack a fond, knowing look at how pleased the other man seemed that Michael had joined them.

There was a long silence - not tense, but brimming with some strange anticipation. Finally, Ray cleared his throat loudly.

“So do we all fuck yet or….?”

Gavin burst out laughing; so did Jack. Even Ryan couldn’t help his smile. It was strange, having that funny knowledge in the room that most of them had been together in one way or another. 

Jack turned to Michael, putting a hand on his cheek and pulling him in for a kiss. Ryan grinned at the sight of it; both had that slightly too desperate eagerness that he knew meant they’d been thinking about it for a long, long time. Gavin watched them as well for a moment before rising from the couch and moving to join the others instead.

“I think they’re a bit distracted at the moment,” he whispered, and Ryan chuckled as he watched Michael move forward, practically clambering into Jack’s lap to straddle him and deepen the kiss. “Team too-injured-to-move can sit over here together.”

Ray laughed, adjusting his sling before ushering Gavin to sit on his lap, too, a mirror of the pair across the room. Their own embrace was a little more careful, mindful of their still-tender injuries, Ray keeping one hand on Gavin’s waist to steady him as he leaned forward.

It wasn’t their first kiss, Ryan could tell. But it was a first for Ray to pull away from Gavin and immediately turn to reel Ryan in next - for him to feel Gavin’s arm pressed to his as he kissed Ray and now that across the room Michael and Jack were just as lost in one another. It felt comfortable and warm and _right_ , and it pushed the darkness away, if only for a little while.

 

* * *

 

Stepping back into the Stoneworld was a shock. Even if Ryan understood the portal in _theory_ , actually travelling so instantaneously within their own kingdom was jarring. Moving so suddenly from the cool, frigid air of the Alps to the stagnant stillness of the Stone-Wild border made his head spin a little. The first thing he saw was the Wild nearby, as dark and forbidding as ever, a clear-cut line of tangled jungle beginning only a short distance from the portal. It had been a while since he saw it, and it still sent a shiver down his spine even if he was used to the magic by now.

But there was Geoff, too, waiting for them. He embraced Ryan enthusiastically the moment he stepped through.

Ryan made a startled noise as the other man slammed into him. He stiffened, not expecting the hug - but after a moment wrapped his arms around the other man and squeezed him back. It was nice to do this in person and not as a spirit; Geoff felt solid and warm and real, and his proximity made the magic in Ryan surge and swell.

When they pulled apart Ryan looked over his shoulder at the distant Stone city. There it was, glowing faintly red. It was dawn and the sun was rising; soon the lights around the city would begin to turn off. His heart clenched a little; the others may not be as fond of the kingdom, but the Stoneworld was still _home_ to him, and it only really hit him now that it was that which was under threat, which had been taken away from him, too.

He turned back to Geoff, who was watching him thoughtfully.

“Mica and Kerry?”

“They’re back in Achievement City,” Geoff said.

Ryan nodded. He’d been the last to step through, and they both turned to the others now. It was just Ryan, Gavin and Jack for now. Michael and Ray would come later; they were preparing their forces, getting ready to deliver a message to the Stoneworld.

Having this door from the Alps to the Wild border was very convenient. Ryan knew he’d have to build the others soon, for now he was here to talk to the others and make a plan - and to see Gavin off.

The Wild king had a large pack on his back, filled with everything Ryan thought he might need in the end. Weapons, food, redstone torches, leftover potions. He’d drunk one earlier and it had put a little colour back in his cheeks, although he still favoured one side. He was bundled up in his creeper scarf - it was ragged now, tattered and filled with holes and tears - but for a moment he reminded Ryan of the little fool in the mysterious scarf who’d so intrigued him right back at the beginning.

They’d drop him off at the portal before returning to the city. Ryan’s own face was blank, but he could see the worry and fear in both Jack and Geoff’s eyes.

Gavin turned towards the Wild. He smiled a little at the sight of his kingdom, then closed his eyes. A moment later, two enormous spiders emerged from the trees, meandering towards the kings on their long, spindly legs. They’d be able to move through the trees faster than on foot or horseback. Gavin swung up onto his usual one - Ryan couldn’t remember its ridiculous name - and he and Geoff both moved to help Jack up behind Gavin.

“Nice that you don’t all hate my guts this time around,” Gavin apparently couldn’t resist commenting.

They laughed, but it was uneasy. Ryan clambered up onto the other spider - it was higher than he’d expected, and its long, rough hairs made him shiver as he settled onto his back. Geoff climbed up behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and Gavin commanded them all forward.

It was surreal, clinging to the creature’s fur as they ran into the forest, scuttling along tree branches and ducking around fallen logs, at times not even upright but moving vertically up trunks or ridges. Geoff’s arms were a vice grip around Ryan’s chest, and after a moment he leaned in and whispered in his ear.

“What do you think of this? Gav going off on his own… I’m worried.”

Ryan twisted to look at him.

“I think we should trust him,” he replied, slowly. “Remember, he killed the beast all on his own - and that was before he had his gift, before he had any experience fighting. I’m worried, yes, but Gavin can handle himself far more than we sometimes give him credit for.”

Geoff was silent for a moment.

“Yeah, but he has a fucking stab wound, Ryan!”

“True,” Ryan admitted. “That’s the part that worries me. But Midas could’ve finished him off, after that. He didn’t. That has to mean something.”

“Something,” Geoff muttered, unhappily. He fell silent, but a minute later he pressed his face against Ryan’s shoulder, seeking reassurance. Ryan found he didn’t mind.

Deeper they rode into the Wild, and deeper. It grew dark above them, stagnant and humid, and the feeling of magic rose up, almost overwhelming. Ryan remembered how he’d once fought against it - how it had scared him back then, how he’d seen it as something to resist and refuse to influence him. Now he felt open to it - let it seem to seep into every pore, spread through him with every breath, from his lungs to his heart to the very tips of his fingers, filling him.

Geoff’s grip on him tightened as they approached the clearing where the portal was. The ground around them had become even more tangled and overgrown since they were last here, but it was bringing back memories of the time they’d spent here in the jungle last time, exploring the temples together. They passed several gaping craters where creepers had blown up during the fight against the Wither, and then the rusted remains of some of Ryan’s golems, torn to shreds, their limbs scattered across the earth.

Geoff shivered against his back, and Ryan glanced over at him.

“You alright?”

“I was injured here,” Geoff replied, abruptly - and Ryan remembered with a sudden jolt that this was where the fight had happened, where the fatal wound was struck.

“You’re back now,” he murmured, but reached behind him to squeeze Geoff’s hand.

The entrance to the basement was as dark and forbidding as it always had been. Ryan hated the sight of it, hated that they were finally here. He’d almost wanted to ride through the Wild forever, away from the Stoneworld and civilisation and all their problems, on the hypnotic, swaying back of the great spider. But it ended, like everything else, and now it was time.

Gavin jumped off the spider’s back. He stumbled a little on landing, but caught himself, touching his side but straightening up quickly.

“It’s good to be back in the Wild,” he said, when the others all dismounted and started towards him in concern. “The magic here is making me stronger. Sharper.”

“We don’t want that wound to open again,” Jack said, but Gavin moved forward and touched his chest lightly.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, smiling reassuringly, and turned back to the entrance. “Let’s see how it looks down there.”

The deja vu was nearly overwhelming as they descended the narrow staircase by the light of a redstone torch. It felt like just yesterday that they’d all been venturing here for the first time, waiting to discover the answers to this mystery, at odds with each other but slowly hoping to heal.

They stepped into the chamber and Ryan lifted the torch. There was the portal - closed now, but with a dozen Endermen standing in a line behind it, each holding one of the Eyes of Ender that they had hidden six months ago. They were disconcerting figures in the shadowy red light, tall and dark and each casting a menacing shadow - but they weren’t staring at him as they used to, just moved forward at Gavin’s command and put the Eyes back into their slots. The portal lit up with that strange nothingness, sending a chill down Ryan’s spine.

He put the torch on the floor, and Gavin glanced between him and the Endermen.

“Ryan, lovely Ryan,” he began, a slightly confused note in his voice. “They don’t want you anymore.”

“What does that mean?” Ryan replied, uncertainly.

“That you stopped feeling guilty, I suppose,” Gavin replied, softly. “Or that… that what happened with Tamora absolved you. An eye for an eye, a murder for a murder attempt.”

Ryan scoffed a little. There was a slightly awkward pause - Gavin looked like a child, clutching the straps of his pack, shuffling his feet. Finally he looked up. He seemed hesitant, a little nervous - but he grinned.

“This isn’t goodbye,” he assured them. “It feels like it, yeah? But I’ll be back, and soon.”

“If he tries to touch you,” Geoff began.

“Enderpearls.” Gavin held open his jacket; the pearls were in pouches around his waist. “I can make a quick getaway whenever I need to. I’ll be fine, I promise, and I don’t intend to be away long. The first thing I’m gonna do is make sure I can come back any time I want. I’m taking the Endermen with me as well.”

“It feels like goodbye,” Jack murmured, absently, and Gavin stepped forward and took his hands.

“I promise,” he repeated, earnestly. “Trust me. In the meantime,” he added, glancing at the others, “My mobs will stay on guard here in the Wild.”

“Be careful, Gav,” Geoff urged, and Gavin left Jack’s side to go over to him instead. “We have too much left to do for you not to come back.”

“Of course,” Gavin said, and Ryan saw Geoff swallow. His eyes were red, and for a moment he feared the other man might cry.

“I love you,” Geoff said. It was all he needed to. His voice was a little choked, and Gavin’s face crumpled a little.

“I love you, too.” He made the first move this time, stepping forward to kiss Geoff sweetly before pulling him into a hug. They stood for a long moment, arms wrapped around each other, rocking gently - then Jack moved in, too, and Gavin turned to bring him into the embrace.

Ryan smiled at the sight of the three of them. It was good to see them able to all be together at last, so long after the tension between them during the games. 

Finally Gavin turned to Ryan. He took him by the hands and drew him a little way to the side.

“Sweet Ryan, don’t look so sad!” he said. “I’m going to be back very soon.”

Ryan could only nod. His chest felt tight suddenly, a wave of emotion sweeping up on him unexpectedly - he was already stressed about everything, and having Gavin at his side while he dealt with all this would’ve helped. He didn’t want him to leave. But he could see how tired the other man looked, how strained, and knew suddenly that as much as he’d like Gavin around - Gavin didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to face Claudius and all the others that had laughed at him in court. Didn’t want any of that. 

If only he was going somewhere safe. That was the worst part. If they couldn’t feel Gavin over the bond once he went to the End, they might never know what happened to him. What if he _didn’t_ come back?  
  
He didn’t dare say that out loud, worried voicing his fears might make them come true. 

“I know,” he replied instead, and took a deep breath, clasping Gavin by the shoulders. “Don’t let him intimidate you. He might be ancient, but you’re as much a king as him. You have that crown for a reason. Like all the others back in those days, you went and you proved yourself and you earned that gift. You have the Endermen, keepers of the tower, at your beck and call. Be proud of that.”

Gavin nodded, eyes wide.

“When you return,” Ryan continued, with a glance at Geoff and Jack, “We will all be together. No matter what everyone else says. It’s not their choice, it’s ours - I’ll sort out my side of things.”

Gavin’s breath hitched a little.

“The Stoneworld,” he began, “That big mess, it’s-”

“It’s no one’s fault but Claudius and the rest of them who swooped in to try and take over,” Ryan replied, fiercely. “It’s not just about _you_ , Gavin - it’s about the power they crave, power they had during my mother’s rule. Power that I took from them. They might blame you, say you made me weak, but it’s not your fault. They don’t deserve to rule and I won’t let them. I was uncertain before,” he added, “I was afraid. Like you, for a moment I had - doubt. Doubt that I’d let my people down, that I hadn’t been strong enough. But I see now - when you have something to fight for - that’s a powerful thing.”

Gavin nodded again. His eyes were bright with tears, and Ryan pulled him forward and hugged him tightly. Gavin squeezed him back, then leaned up and took hold of his face, tugging him in to kiss him. There was an almost feverish desperation in his movements, and for a moment Ryan could almost forget about the portal beside them, about all the rest of it - his hands ran through Gavin’s hair, angling his face to press against him close and deep, like it was just the two of them, alone in the quiet dark.

When they pulled apart Gavin stared up at him for a moment - face flushed, eyes glistening with tears - then abruptly stepped forward and hugged Ryan tightly again, face pressed against his chest. Ryan swallowed his own tears and stroked the other man’s hair, pressing another kiss to the top of his head.

Gavin stepped back. He turned and stared into the portal, and Jack and Geoff moved up by Ryan’s side, watching him. When he turned around, the tiredness on his face had faded, replaced by nothing but determination and that mischievous yearning for adventure that Ryan hadn’t seen on his face in far too long. He trusted him suddenly - the fool king, the jester who’d taken the Wild crown - brave, sweet, ridiculous Gavin. He had this under control.

“Take care of each other,” Gavin said, gaze running over each of them. “Don’t look so sad! I’ll be back before you know it.” He paused, then added tenderly, “I love you all.”

His gaze lingered on Ryan as he said it; a first of sorts, and Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. He was seized, suddenly, with a fierce, fervent determination.

_I won’t lose this. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it. To win._

Still smiling, Gavin gave them a jaunty player’s bow. Through all the darkness, all the pain, that indomitable spirit was still in there. He turned to the portal and Ryan saw his shoulders heave as he took a deep breath.

And then, flanked by his Endermen, he walked up the stairs and stepped into the dark void.

.

.

.

**END OF PART I**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Ray's magic by justisaisfine](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/156994698809/justisaisfine-the-stones-under-his-feet-glowed) \- thank you so much, this is incredible!
> 
> I'm taking a  **two week break** before I start posting Part II. But I'll be posting another story in the meantime! <3


	11. Chapter 11

** PART II: GIFTS OF THE GODS ** ****

 

_Haven’t we earned our freedom?_

Gavin emerged from the portal with a gasp. For a moment, he’d felt like he was drowning - like he was falling dazed through deep, dark water, just like he had been in that temple. Now as he stepped free of the void it felt like breaking into fresh air. He stumbled and fell to his knees.

His side hurt. His head was spinning. But he took a deep breath, and gathered himself, and looked up.

_So this is the End._

He had no idea what he’d been expecting. At times when he’d thought of Midas, lurking out there, he’d envisioned the other man in some parallel to the Wild; walking through the shadows of some tangled jungle, the trees fantastically large, creeping beasts around every corner.

This was unlike anything he’d imagined. It was so utterly different to their Earth that he felt a sudden shock. At least the Nether had been similar to the Stoneworld - everything here just felt… _wrong_. 

The portal opened onto an expansive plain. In the distance he could see plants - what seemed like farms, growing quite human crops - but beyond that was a forest of sorts. The ‘of sorts’ came from the fact that the trees were little more than jagged dark lines that weaved about at odd angles and appeared to have no leaves at all. They looked more like some sort of confused, interpretive sculpture than actual plants.

The black ridges of mountains were visible on the horizon - but before him was a high wall built of the same stone as the portal, and behind _that_ an enormous castle. He could just see its towers peeking over the edge of the wall. He’d travelled to all the kingdoms by now and if he had to make a comparison, he’d say the architecture was similar to that of the Desert kingdom, beautiful domes topping each rounded spire.

What was most unsettling was the sky. It was dark lavender, as flat as the Nether horizon - and though it was filled with stars, something felt wrong about them. A sense of being watched hung over him, and every time Gavin glanced up he kept expecting to see that the sky was in fact filled with millions of eyes, staring down.

It was the colours that were throwing him off; there was something sickly to the shade of the sky, the grass, the stones, something that made a little nauseous shiver run down his spine.

He climbed to his feet, wincing as the movement pulled at his injury. Around him, the Endermen murmured lowly, shuffling their feet. He could sense their unease, could feel them in his mind-

And, he realised with a jolt, he could still feel the others. All six of them.

_Wait. All_ six _of them?_

There was a new presence in there. He reached out, tentatively, and found something bitter and foreign. He didn’t dare stretch out and get too close to it, and retreated back into his own mind, his eyes snapping up as he caught a flash of movement from the castle.

A procession of Wither were emerging from the gates. Clearly guards of some sort, they were already raising their bows, and Gavin felt a flash of alarm. He pulled out his knife, and waved a hand. The Endermen stepped in front of him, shielding him with their bodies.

“Don’t shoot!” Gavin called out - were they even sentient creatures? If they could be commanded to guard a castle, they must be. “King Midas invited me here. I want to speak to him.”

For a moment, he feared they wouldn’t listen and he would have to jump back through the portal. But they must have understood; the skeletons paused, looking at one another, before two of them turned back and went into the castle behind them. The others continued to stand with their bows raised.

Gavin’s heart was pounding, but not just with fear. _Anticipation._ These last few days, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Midas - about how one man might hold all the answers that he’d been seeking for over a year now.

And being here _alone_ , in an entire other world - it was daunting, but somehow, as the shock faded a little, not quite as unsettling as it had been earlier. The End felt like the Wild to him; magic in the air, the comforting presence of his Endermen nearby. He’d grown used to them in his own kingdom. Aside from the Wither, he didn’t feel like he was in danger.

_The others think you are. They’ll all be worried about you._

He felt a stab of guilt - _that_ had been the hardest part. Leaving all the others behind. Leaving when he knew they didn’t want him to. Leaving Geoff, especially, after just getting him back.

_Sort this out. You’ll have time together, all of you. It will be like before the games, when you and Jack and Geoff lived together. Stability. But first, sort this out. Sort out Midas and the Stoneworld and all of it. Find a way._

The castle gates opened again, and he snapped back to attention.

Midas strode towards him, flanked by two skeletons. Gavin did a double take - he nearly didn’t recognise the man. He wasn’t wearing his gold armour anymore - and without it, he didn’t look quite so much like one of the ancient heroes Gavin had seen lovingly painted in the books of mythology back in the Plains. Instead, he wore a loose shirt and a battered pair of trousers, a faint beer stain on one sleeve - for a moment Gavin’s heart tugged as the sight abruptly reminded him of Geoff, of how he used to look in the evenings when Gavin would slip into his room to steal some of his fancy wine and they’d end up laughing and talking for hours, playing cards or chess or gossiping about the day’s events in court.

“Wild king!” Midas boomed, as he strode forward with his arms outstretched. This was the first warning sign of something Gavin would quickly realise: the guy had absolutely no fucking volume control and had presumably never entered a library in his life. “You came!”

He sounded so _happy_ that it took Gavin aback. Not only that, but - in his armour, Midas had seemed dangerous. Lethal, even. But here in his casual clothes, with battered sandals on his feed and no gold in sight-

He looked soft. His hair was cropped very close to his head, receding a little at the hairline, a thin balding patch on top. It made his face seem even rounder. Not only that, but he was a big man - not just tall, but with a paunch and chubbiness to him. Muscular, yes, and Gavin knew that a soldier with weight behind him was even stronger than one without - but he looked like someone you might easily underestimate, especially with a great big smile on his face.

That smile vanished as he got closer. He rumbled to a halt and his face darkened as he noticed the Endermen.

“You brought _them_ ,” he said, pure hate in his voice.

“What?” Gavin asked. “Of course I did. They’re my mobs.”

“Those wicked, wicked creatures cannot stay.” Midas scowled, stepping forward, and Gavin immediately raised his knife, the Endermen shifting closer to him warningly.

“Too bad. Then I’m leaving, too. They’re under my control and will protect me as long as I’m here.” He lifted his chin and saw Midas think about this. His eyes were fixed on the Endermen, and when Gavin glanced up at them, he could see that their eyes were full of anger, too. He could feel the negative emotions rolling off them in waves - stronger than it ever had been around Ryan or anyone else they wanted.

But finally, Midas gave a jerking nod.

“Okay,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Okay! They can stay.”

He seemed to gather himself, and when he looked up, he was smiling again. He stepped forward, reaching out as though to _embrace_ Gavin, much to his confusion. But Gavin stepped back away from his hand, and Midas looked stricken, letting it fall immediately.

“Of course. You don’t want me to touch you,” he said, and sighed. “I mean you absolutely no harm, Wild king, but I suppose I’ll have to prove that to you. But you are not my enemy here - not by a long shot! This is no trick, or trap, though I suspect only time will convince you of that. I invited you here because I want to work together.”

“Work together.”

“Yes. I’ll get to that in time,” Midas said, and beamed. “Thank you for coming! But your wound - how is it?”

There was what sounded like genuine concern in his eyes, a tenderness to his voice - still, Gavin didn’t trust him. It was highly likely that Midas just wanted him to drop his guard so that he could take whatever it was he wanted and then turn Gavin into an extremely expensive statue.

“Not too severe,” he replied, warily. “It’s healing well, and I can still run and fight.” There was something pointed to that - he wanted Midas to see him as a threat, to realise he wasn’t so weak that he could try anything. “I have a lot of questions for you.”

“And I’ll hopefully have the answers!” Midas cried. His annoyance at the Endermen gone, he seemed almost _gleeful_ now, practically bouncing on the heels of his feet. “In the meantime - what’s your name?”

It struck Gavin that he’d never actually told him. He swallowed.

“Gavin,” he said. “Gavin Free.”

“Nice to meet you, Gavin! _Free_ ,” Midas repeated with a smile, “I really like that.”

His voice was slipping a little, into something more casual. Gavin was rather confused - he’d sounded so intimidating through the portal, and when talking to the Overlord, an archaic tinge to his speech that had made it very clear why anyone might mistake him for a god. Now he seemed to be falling into something more more regular, his accent thickening too.

“Please,” he declared, “Let me show you into my castle! Let me show you the End - let me tell you everything that’s happened to me!”

He seemed almost giddy with excitement, reaching for Gavin’s arm before remembering and dropping his hand again. Undeterred, he swept his hand towards the gates.

The Wither lowered their weapons and returned to patrolling the wall. Without them there, Gavin felt some of his tension ease. He kept the Endermen surrounding him like bodyguards, but followed Midas through the gates.

The castle loomed above them, like a particularly dark and menacing cake. The black stone was unsettling, but what Gavin was more confused by was who had built it and who lived in there. It was a rather big place for just a single man.

“Did you build that, or did the Wither?” he asked, and Midas glanced at him.

“I designed it!” he replied. There was a particular pride in his voice that Gavin recognised. He’d heard it in himself when he was showing the others around the Wild. “Then commanded the Wither - oh, that is a good name for them - to help me make it.”

“You can control them like mobs?”

“No,” Midas said, and paused.

The courtyard leading up to the castle entrance was essentially a giant garden; lawns of the same sallow grass as outside stretched around the building. There was an enormous fountain either side of it, spewing purple water that looked like grape juice. 

What really caught his eye, though, were the statues.

In the lawns on either side of the stairs were a myriad of shimmering golden figures, and it wasn’t hard to tell from the writhing, contorted positions they were all in that they had once been people. Quite a few were human, others were strange creatures like none Gavin had ever seen before - except in the Nether, as souls fleeing the Overlord.

Speaking of the Overlord - his great, sparkling form towered above the rest of them, and Gavin couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the sight.

“You put him in your bloody garden?”

Midas roared with laughter as well, pleased at his own joke.

“Why not?” he replied. “He may as well serve a decorative purpose.”

“His arse is right in front of the window!”

“Yes. That’s the guest room. Best view in the house!”

There was a gleeful note to his voice, something almost childlike about the way he couldn’t stop laughing, voice just a bit too loud considering Gavin was standing quite close to him. It reminded Gavin of an excited child showing off its atrocious scribbles.

“Is he dead?” he asked, inching closer to the statue. He was curious, and wanted to see it up close, but he was half afraid the Overlord would spring from his metallic confines any second and attack them again.

“I mean, he’s been turned to metal, so yes.”

“You can’t undo it? It’s permanent?”

“As permanent as the Stone king’s redstone is,” Midas said, solemnly. And then, in a slightly darker voice, “People might not hate me so much if I could have turned back my… accidents.”

_Accidents_. Because that wasn’t totally ominous. Gavin swallowed, and turned back towards him.

“The End,” he prompted. “They threw you in here, hoping to keep you away from everyone. But you built this castle?”

“Yes,” Midas said, and perked up a bit as he beckoned Gavin to ascend the stairs and walk inside with him. “Let me tell you some things, right. The End is one of several intermediary dimensions. The Nether is another - it connects Earth and Eternity. The End connects Earth and another realm, Atlantis. You don’t need to worry about that - all you need to know is that the Endermen originated from here, and have the ability to teleport between dimensions. When they teleport, in the instant that they’re not on Earth, they’re passing through here.”

“That makes sense,” Gavin said.

“Glad you’re following. This particular area we’re in right now is quite safe. It’s one of the bigger masses of land in the world. But out there…” 

His gaze trailed distantly towards the black mountains on the horizon.

“Out there are monsters,” he said. “Terrible, shadowed forms.”

“The beasts,” Gavin whispered - Midas nodded.

“They’re intelligent, hugely so, even if they don’t speak our tongue. They used to reign over this domain, until the Endermen drove them back into the shadows, fearful that they’d find some way to break through to Earth and to Atlantis - that they’d destroy and consume the lands of humans. There are still wild Endermen in these regions - or at least, there used to be, until I got here.” He gave a tight smile, and cast a dark, almost mocking look towards Gavin’s own Endermen. “Perhaps not such a good idea to trap me here instead of just killing me, hm?”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m _angry_. I am very, very angry, and have been for a long time. And I’m not the only one. The beasts are angry too.”

“With Earth?” Gavin asked, and Midas gave a little huff of a laugh.

“Well, to some degree. With the Endermen, chiefly.” He turned his glare to them again. “Imagine this: you have reasons for everything you do. You are just trying to protect yourself, to do something _for_ yourself for once. You don’t mean to hurt anybody else, but sometimes they get in your way. But then someone else takes it upon themselves to _punish_ you - based on nothing but their own self-righteousness!”

Gavin swallowed. He didn’t have to imagine; it felt all too much like what he’d felt just after taking the crown. When all the others hated him, pushed him out, and all he could cling to was his own knowledge that he didn’t regret the games, that he’d _had_ to do what he did.

“These _creatures,”_ Midas continued, “Are loathed by myself, by the beasts, by the Wither. They think they have the right to judge everyone they come across - to deem whether they deserve to be punished or not. Even when they protected the tower, they would try and drive away those who they didn’t think were _worthy_.”

“Surely they just wanted to stop power falling into the wrong hands,” Gavin began.

“Who’s to say whose hands are wrong or not? I’m sure there are many who weren’t pleased when you took the crown. There always are.”

Gavin fell silent, unwilling to agree but unable to argue.

“It’s not up to them,” Midas continued, angrily. “It shouldn’t be. But anyway - in this world they are known as… as clerics, I suppose. They’re powerful here, more than they are even on Earth. The magic of the End fuels them and makes them impossible to kill.”

Gavin remembered how the Wither had slaughtered his Endermen back in the Wild - at least he could count on that not happening here.

“But on Earth… on Earth they’re as mortal as everyone else. They do not respawn like the other mobs.”

“And what are the Wither, then?” Gavin asked, glancing at the guards that patrolled the wall. Midas followed his gaze, and laughed.

“Haven’t you worked it out, yet? The souls who the Endermen judge on Earth - you must’ve heard the stories; those with guilty consciences and darkness in their hearts - what do you think happens to them?”

“Dunno,” Gavin replied, a little embarrassed, “Suppose I just thought they beat them to death or something.”

“Nothing so merciful. They teleport them here, where the End’s magic drains them of life, of heartiness, of their very souls. They become nothing but - as you call them - the Wither. They have their memories, at first, but the longer they’re here they begin to fade. They become mindless. But once I arrived… well, we’ll get to that later.”

By now they’d entered the castle’s main hall, and Gavin stopped in his tracks with a gasp.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen so much gold in his life.

The entire floor was covered in shimmering tiles, the ceiling, too. The walls had gold between every wooden panel, and there was an enormous, glittering chandelier hanging over the room. More statues littered the place - many of them animals or plants that had been transformed - but there were some real plants, too, pots of flowers and shrubs and a few small trees adding a splash of colour to the room. 

It was gorgeous, he couldn’t deny it. It was as magnificent as any of the great halls of the Plains, and for a moment he remembered being a young boy entering one of the grand cathedrals for the first time. How his breath had been taken away! He remembered golden candlesticks, the heavy silk fabrics draped over the altars, ornately carved marble statues and the smoky, lingering scent of expensive incense, staying in his hair and clothes for hours after.

Riches fit for the gods.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, and when he looked over Midas’ face was flushed with pleasure.

“Glad to hear it. I never did have much sense for interior design but, well, I’ve had a lot of time to mess around with things. Oh! Come here, let me show you something.”

He rushed down another hall to a door, flinging it open and beckoning Gavin eagerly. Gavin followed, and froze.

The room reminded him of a dragon’s lair. It was obviously some sort of treasure chamber - it had a high ceiling and was absolutely filled with piles of golden treasures. Mountains of coins, stacks of pots and crockery and carvings. Statues. Jewellery. Neat rows of ingots lining the sides of the rooms.

“Impressive, huh?” Midas said, gleefully. He nudged Gavin with his elbow, and Gavin was too awestruck to even notice that they’d touched.

“Holy shit,” he managed, and Midas broke into a fit of cackles beside him.

“And it’s all mine! All made by _me_ ,” he cried, and sprang into the room. He began fishing around in the mess, producing a handful of golden rings. “Here - look at these! The intricacies! Try them on!”

He thrust them at Gavin, who took them automatically. Midas dived back into his treasures and Gavin studied the rings - they had delicate designs, detailed carvings of dragons and fish and serpents around the thin gold bands.

“How did you make these?” he asked.

“I carved them from wood, then turned them to solid gold,” Midas replied. He emerged with a thin golden chain and stepped towards Gavin, holding it up to his throat. “Yes! This suits you. Here, you can have it.”

“I couldn’t-”

“I insist!” Midas threw it into his hand before producing three more necklaces, each larger and more extravagant than the last. Gavin was absolutely confounded, and couldn’t help breaking into awkward laughter.

“That’s too much! I’ll look like one of those noblemen who wear gold just for the sake of it.”

“You don’t need a _reason_ to wear gold,” Midas said. “I have more than I know what to do with. Go, try them on!”

Gavin hesitated. He had no idea what was going on. Part of him was paranoid that Midas had somehow enchanted the gold, that this was all some trick or a trap. Midas must’ve seen the look on his face - his shoulders slumped, and he deflated a little.

“A king should have riches,” Midas continued, looking him up and down. He gathered up another box full of coins and shoved it towards Gavin, then a pair of sparkling gold earrings. “Are your ears pierced? No? Let me do them for you-”

“That’s going a bit far,” Gavin cut in, but he felt guilty despite himself when Midas’ face fell. 

“You still don’t trust me,” he said. “You don’t have to wear it. I suppose I’ve been a little over the top. But I’ve been alone here for so long. I can make all these beautiful things, but it’s nicer to see someone else using them than it is to have them for myself.”

Gavin bit his lip. Midas sighed, and laid the treasures aside.

“Well, perhaps later. But let me show you the crown I made for myself! I didn’t have one, you know - the tower was still intact when I received my gift.”

He waded through the piles of treasure in the room, Gavin picking his way after him over stacks of ingots. At the back of the room on a wooden mannequin sat an absolute monster of a crown. It was a foot tall and made of a gold net with an intricate pattern of hoops and arches on it, tapering up from its band to a rounded point. Big golden spheres dotted it at intervals. Gavin wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or horrified.

“It’s… it’s definitely eye-catching,” he finally managed.

“A touch extravagant,” Midas agreed, “But it makes an impression.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Gavin murmured. “Isn’t that heavy? Can you even wear it?”  
  
Midas heaved the crown off the mannequin and placed it on his own head. It actually looked much better on a human - the gold against his dark skin was beautiful - but the design itself remained objectively atrocious, and it looked constantly on the verge of falling off.

“Nice,” Gavin said weakly, and gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

“Too heavy to wear into battle,” Midas said, placing it back on its stand. “But no one could see me wearing that and doubt that I am a powerful king!”

He trudged back towards the door, Gavin following him.

“Your voice,” he couldn’t help commenting. “It’s… different. It changes. When we spoke through the portal, the way you talked was… different to how it is now. Different to how it was back in the Nether.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. You seemed more sure of yourself. More ominous.”

“More _noble,_ you mean,” Midas grunted, and Gavin had to nod. They headed back out into the hall, and Midas closed and locked the treasury behind him. He paused for a moment, then turned towards Gavin and sighed.

“You’re right,” he said, “Here, with you… there’s no need for all that, that… that _foppery_. I grew up on the streets, Gavin. I was a thief for years. Even once I claimed my gift, I made _myself_ a King. So yes, I will be very dramatic when I need to, but that’s all it is. Theatre. Haven’t you ever put on an act before?”

Yet again, Gavin didn’t want to admit he was right. He looked away, and Midas sighed again.

“It is unfortunate,” he said, “That those who were raised in power would look down at those who claimed it by other means, just because they don’t speak the same way. Behave the same way. Value the same things. But somehow, I get the feeling you already know that. After all, you don’t speak much like a king either.”

An uncomfortable memory rose to the surface; back when he first reunited with the other kings, after the dragon attack when they realised they were going to come into the Wild - Geoff and Ryan’s comments about his education, or lack thereof, had hit deep. He knew they had been angry, and lashing out, and he’d forgotten about them in the meantime, but at the time they’d still _hurt_.

“Why did they send you here?” he whispered. He knew snatches of it from the Endermen’s memories - _he’s gone mad - too powerful - destroying lives -_ but not the details of it. “What do you want now?”

“They had no good reason to,” Midas growled. “I hate the other gifted - though they passed away long ago - I hate the Endermen who helped them. But your father Robin, the beasts, all of that - I can tell you my story. But I want to hear yours, first.”

“Mine?”

“I want to know about you, Wild king,” Midas said. “About how you found the crown. About the others who currently reign. I can feel you,” he said, and clasped his chest, “But I can’t _see_ what’s gone on in the kingdoms since I left. Tell me your story, and I’ll tell you mine.”

It had given Gavin a little thrill to hear Midas say _your father_ \- he sounded so _certain_ that it was clear he had the answers Gavin needed. And, he thought, there was little harm in telling Midas what was going on in their world. It was becoming increasingly clear that his assumptions about the Gold king were not quite accurate, and trust begot trust, after all.

“Okay,” he said. “It’s, well… it’s a pretty long story.”

“Then we must eat while you tell it!” Midas roared, and clapped his hands together happily. He strode off down the hall, Gavin following him in bemusement, leading him to a set of back rooms in the castle.

While the golden entrance hall had been pristine, these were clearly the chambers that Midas spent most of his time in. They seemed messy and lived in, and as they passed living areas and parlours Gavin was surprised to see shelves filled with books and tapestries hanging on walls. He wondered where Midas had gotten them from - there were still questions about the End he needed to ask.

For now, Midas led him into a kitchen and ushered him to sit down at a nearby table.

“Do you like sweets?” he asked.

“Sweets?” Gavin replied, a little stupidly.

“Sweet things. Dessert. Surely you know what dessert is.”

“Of course I do,” Gavin replied. “I, uh… I don’t… mind them?”

“Fantastic. Then we will have some. I love sweets,” Midas continued, beginning to open various cupboards and clatter about with bowls and crockery, “Though for a long time I never had any. As a poor boy I knew little about life’s luxuries. About everything that gold could buy you. About the food that kings in their castles grew fat upon while the rest of us starved. Cocoa,” he added, something almost reverent to the word, “Fine sugar, cream, all the rest of it. Can you imagine those first few days after I received my gift, when suddenly the entire world and its experiences were open to me?”

“I was the same,” Gavin admitted - Midas’ tale had struck something in him, and he felt suddenly quite close to the other man. “When I began living in Geoff’s - the Plains’ king’s - court, he gave me so much food that I’d never had before. I’ll never forget that first time trying all those different things.”

“We appreciate it more,” Midas said, heartily. “We _deserve_ it more.”

“I suppose,” Gavin murmured, and Midas turned to look at him, his eyes intense and glinting in the room’s gold light.

“We _do_ ,” he repeated, fiercely. “We did not come by our power easily, Gavin. Didn’t we earn everything we have? And now that we have it, it’s cruel for anyone to try and take it away from us. Or that’s what I think. Perhaps you disagree. Perhaps, first, we should hear where we have both come from.” 

Gavin nodded. His head was spinning with all this new information, and he wasn’t sure _what_ he was supposed to think of all this. But he laid it aside for now, and as Midas turned back to his food, he took a deep breath and began to tell his story.

 

* * *

 

Entering the Wild was far less nerve-wracking this time around. Instead of the lingering dread that had hit him last time upon stepping across the dark border, Michael felt pumped up. One might even say he felt extremely ready to fight a bitch.

He led his soldiers into Achievement City with a great series of roars and banging of shields. All of them were hyped up at the thought of fighting the Stoneworld, and a number of them began a fantastic, galloping dance around the treeline as they whooped and bellowed.

There were already tents set up around the clearing - some of the Plains soldiers helping Gavin’s friends move construction piles and supply crates around - and everyone looked up at their rather noisy entrance, turning in confusion. 

Ryan, Geoff and Jack emerged from one of the tents. It was nice to see the three of them, and Michael broke into a wild grin as he ran forward. Standing there in a line, wearing finer clothes now in anticipation of the meeting, he felt a sudden jolt, the same way he’d used to feel when he saw his father at the head of a council meeting, or in his armour with his generals, a thrum of power between them all. And with his own warpaint on, his bear cloak over his shoulders and the biggest spare sword he could find at his belt, he felt just as much a King as the rest of them.

He let out another roar. It echoed through the clearing, and all his men cheered.

“Okay!” Gus yelled, over the din. He was emerging from the castle doors and scowling, arms folded. “Can you keep the fucking noise down? Some of us are trying to work here!”

Michael fell silent, catching his breath, still grinning. He felt tremendously alive and ready for anything. Night had fallen, and the Wild was lit up with torches. The hearty glow against the cold, sharp air, the feeling of magic around them… everything seemed heightened, and it thrilled him.

“Alright, men, settle down,” he commanded, before waving them off to go and set up their own quarters. He made sure everyone knew what they were doing, then bounded over to the others. Geoff and Jack were laughing; even Ryan cracked a smile.

“Quite the entrance,” Jack commented teasingly.

“I try,” Michael replied, springing forward. For a moment he hesitated - their last meeting was fresh on his mind, kissing in the parlour of the Alpine castle, but with Geoff right there he felt a little more self conscious.

But Jack just smiled, gently, and reached out to clasp his face and pull him in for another kiss. Michael leaned into it, his hands on the other man’s chest. They’d grown so close during those long days when he was recovering, nothing but Jack’s ghostly presence to keep him company, that every time he was actually _with_ the other man now, it felt like a blessing. He could feel Jack’s heart beating steadily under his palm, the warmth of his body in the cool night air.

They pulled apart, and Jack smiled and stroked his thumb over Michael’s cheek. Michael grinned at him, but faltered when he turned to see Geoff watching them. He felt a sudden, intense shyness again, especially now that the other man was actually _there_ , and not just a soul or a presence in the Sight.

“Geoff,” he began, but Geoff shushed him gently, stepping forward. His eyes were intense, filled with a furious _want_ , and Michael barely had time to react before Geoff was reaching out and clasping his face. Michael’s breath caught as Geoff leaned in - but he paused, then, his lips a hair’s breadth from Michael’s, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, waiting for him to close that tiny final distance.

It wasn’t a hard choice.

Michael moved in eagerly. He’d looked up to Geoff for a long time, and getting to know the man in person had only made him admire him even more. Not only that. Fall for him, he thought - his death had been shattering, had only made him realise how much he’d wanted that _chance_ \- for _all_ of them to be something more.

The kiss was slow, almost forgiving. It was everything Michael had imagined; Geoff’s warm hands against his face, the faint taste of liquor on his lips, the scratch of his beard against his cheek. When they pulled apart, Geoff started chuckling, still holding Michael close.

“What was that for?” Michael asked, fondly, his voice wavering a little more than he liked.

“Had a lot of time to think in the Nether,” Geoff replied. “Too much time, probably. Was that okay?”

“Way more than fucking okay,” Michael said. He flushed a little, far too pleased about this development, and quickly turned to Ryan. Although the other man was watching them with a smile, he seemed pensive. His arms were folded, his hair swept severely back, and in his fine robes he looked a lot more like the grim ruler Michael had encountered for the first time in the Stoneworld.

“Gavin go through okay?” Michael asked. “I can... feel him, feel he’s still _there_ , but not really his emotions.”

“He did,” Ryan said, and frowned. “Neither can we.”

There was a tense silence, but Gavin was a hard topic; there was nothing they could _do_ , nothing else left to be said. Nothing but waiting remained.

Finally, Jack sighed and broke the silence.

“Michael,” he said, and looked out at the rest of the clearing. “Your people look like they’re ready to charge into battle!”

“We are,” Michael informed him, proudly. “I mean, we’ll avoid a fight if possible, but we need to be ready if it should come to it. And this will give Claudius a big ol’ _fuck you_ sort of shock, won’t it?”

Ryan nodded agreement, brows furrowed as he looked out at their combined forces.

“Kerry’s taken the design for the portals to Griffon,” he explained. “Gavin’s people are going to build them with his help. Then we can get Ray over here - and more forces from the Plains if need be. In the meantime…”

He turned and swept back inside the tent. The others followed.

A map was laid out on a table in the middle of the space. Ryan strode over to it and jabbed a finger down; Michael moved in and saw that he was pointing at a space on one of the bare plateaus of the Stoneworld.

“We’ll hold the meeting halfway between the Stone Capital and the Wild border,” Ryan explained. “It’s fairly equal territory. We’ve asked Claudius to come with no one but his courtiers and a small group of soldiers. Not his whole army. We’ll go by the same rules.”

“All of us?” Michael asked, and Ryan nodded.

“Yes - the five of us kings and some troops. My golems are in the city - I could reprogram them to fight for me, but I’d need to touch them to adjust the redstone circuiting. Right now, they’re only set to do specific jobs, mostly in the mines. Mica told me the ones who used to guard the wall are already being taken apart.”

“Wait, what the fuck? He’s destroying all your hard work?” Michael asked.

“Yes,” Ryan said. There was a seething anger in his eyes. “Once we’re there, we’ll give Claudius an ultimatum. He can surrender the crown peacefully, and lose his title. He will be banished from the Capital, but not harmed. If he refuses - we take the crown back by force.”

“With all of us behind you, this should work,” Jack pointed out. “They have a council set up, it’s not just Claudius in charge. I doubt anyone would vote to stay once they see how much support you have.”

“Having Geoff there might shake them up a bit,” Michael added, grinning. “They probably don’t realise he’s back yet.”

Geoff chuckled menacingly, and Michael couldn’t help laughing as well.

“They’ll think they’re seeing a ghost,” Geoff said, rather gleefully.

Ryan wasn’t laughing, and Jack reached out and pressed his arm.

“I’m sure we can sort this out without any violence,” he murmured, but Ryan just stared down at the map, shoulders hunched.

“It’s not just my army in there,” he pointed out. “They have a large force of their own mercenaries. They’ve already executed two civilians who tried to resist - I haven’t found out who, yet. I’m trying to get eyes inside the city. The Sight is useful, but it’s not everything. The doctor, who treated your wound,” he said, looking up at Geoff. “And a few others who I know are still loyal to me - if I can get in touch with them, they can let me know exactly what’s going on.”

“Okay,” Geoff agreed. “Well, Jack and I can help with that, if it comes to it.”

There was a tense pause.

“You have this,” Jack murmured, still rubbing Ryan’s shoulder. “You are their leader. The people know that.”

“It’s not the people that I’m worried about,” Ryan said darkly - but after a moment he looked up and nodded. Geoff and Jack nodded back.

“We’ll go check how the portals are going,” Geoff said, and the two of them headed out together. As they exited the tent, a funny silence fell. It was strange being alone with Ryan again, after their time together in the Nether.

Michael watched him in silence as he traced his finger around the map. In the dim red light of the tent, Ryan’s face was shadowy and a little frightening. As Michael watched, he absently reached up as though to adjust his crown, but it wasn’t there. He stared down at the map, brows furrowed intently, fists pressed to the paper with his knuckles white. His shoulders heaved, once.

“Michael,” he said, voice low.

“Ryan?” Michael replied, a little unsure.

Ryan looked up. He gave a very, very tight smile. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

“Thanks,” Michael began, touched, but Ryan moved around the table towards him.

“No,” he continued, and there was a dark undercurrent to his voice that made Michael fall silent, uneasy. “What I mean is, the others will help with the meeting, but… Jack believes this can all be resolved so peacefully. So fucking _simply_. He doesn’t understand. If this trouble was between me and him, or me and Geoff - yes, they’d see reason. But Claudius… Claudius isn’t like us.”

He broke off, and Michael waited, silently. 

“There’s a reason that I couldn’t just kick him out of my council,” Ryan said, finally. “He’s conniving and ruthless. They all are. And there’s a reason my mother liked them so much - you’ve seen her in action. Know that these men are just as bad, they’ve just never had the power to do anything about it yet. But now… now they have the crown, and I’m the only thing standing in the way of them getting the gift, too.”

“They want to kill you,” Michael said, softly. The words sent a cold shock through him.

“Of course,” Ryan growled, and clenched his fists. “He wants to be king. He won’t surrender, not as long as he has the city under his control. So I am glad that you’re here with your army - ready for war - because I do not think this can be resolved peacefully. And the second he threatens me, or any of _you_ \- well, I’m starting to doubt that I will be able to keep my calm.”

Michael bit his lip, falling quiet for a moment. Something about the look on Ryan’s face was almost frightening - but he could see his point.

“If you think we will have to fight,” he replied, slowly, “I will fight. My men are ready.”

“We’ll see,” Ryan said, and looked away. There was still something tense coiled up inside him, and after a moment he said, abruptly, “I lied, just now.”

“What?”

“To Jack and Geoff. When I told them that I was trying to get eyes inside the city? I already have them. Mica went to meet a contact of mine at one of the unguarded mining exits. A golem there delivered a message from the doctor I mentioned before.”

Michael stared at him. He was feeling worse and worse about this, his previous excitement fading into something close to dread. All the battles he’d fought, the bandit attacks he’d fended off, the skirmishes between petty nobles in the Alps and the Desert - this felt different. Darker, somehow.  
  
“It’s bad in there,” Ryan said, and sighed, rubbing his hand over his eyes tiredly. “And it’s only getting worse. Lies are being spread, lies about how I’ve sold our kingdom out to the others. How all the developments I’ve been making have been to increase production only to sell more to the other kingdoms in exchange for riches, for myself and the other elite. That bringing Geoff back was a bribe from the Plains, in exchange for more riches and power.”

"Your people won’t believe it,” Michael began, but Ryan shook his head.

“Maybe not at first. But they’ll start to _doubt_ , and doubt is the most dangerous thing. It is the seed from which worse things grow. Look at this.”

He fished in his pocket and produced a folded piece of parchment, handing it over to Michael, who stared at it suspiciously.

“It’s being spread from the castle.”

Michael grimaced as he tentatively unfolded the paper. His eyes fell on black streaks of ink - a drawing, writing-

“Oh, holy fuck!”

He recoiled for a moment, then forced himself to look back at it. His heart was pounding, a mixture of anger and horror rising up in his chest, making him sick.

“This is fucking obscene,” he snarled, and looked up at Ryan. “And _Claudius_ is spreading this? Gods!”  
  
“No, it’s not him directly. His mercenary followers have been putting these up around the city. It’s no official document - but I don’t doubt he ordered it on the sly.”

Michael stared down at the image. The content of the drawing was crude, but the details that had gone into the artistry only made it more horrifying. There was no delicate way to put it, it was an image of Gavin and Ryan fucking - completely stark naked, at such an angle that absolutely nothing was left to the imagination. Though realistic, the image was clearly a caricature of sorts - Gavin’s nose was even more enormous than it was in real life, but not only that. The artist had given him an Elven touch - his eyes the only flash of colour in the image, painted a sickening, supernatural green - his fingers curled like claws, his ears drawn to slight points. Ryan’s eyes were dizzy swirls as though he was hypnotised, his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a lustful, panting dog.

The text was the worst. In huge, messy brush strokes was written, “ _THE WITCH WHORE THAT HAYWOOD HAS SOLD OUR LAND TO!”_

Beneath it, in smaller writing:

_“The games were meant to CONQUER the Wild!_  
_Instead the Traitor Fool seduces others to his path!  
_ _NOT OUR KINGDOM!”_

Michael swallowed, or tried to. His mouth had gone completely dry, and he couldn’t look away from the image. It made something furious rage hot at the back of his skull, something that he thought might make him lose his mind.

“I don’t even know what to say,” he said finally, “Except that when I find whoever made this, I’m gonna force them to eat the fucking thing before I slit their throat.”

Ryan was silent, and Michael shook himself.

“They gave you a fucking generous cock though,” he added, trying to lighten the mood at least a little. “Like for real, whoever drew you here made you pretty damn buff!”

Ryan laughed, bitterly.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll make sure to thank Claudius for the artistic six pack when I meet him.”

Michael looked away.

“Honestly, though,” he said, and his voice came out a little strangled whisper. “This makes me sick.”

He was so angry that he nearly saw red. It wouldn’t come bursting out, just simmered within him until he unconsciously crumpled the paper in his fist.

He wanted to _hurt_ whoever had done this - with an intensity that almost scared him. When he looked up, he found that same anger burning in Ryan’s eyes.

“He is trying to hurt us,” he whispered, then repeated, with all its desperate meaning, “ _Us_. I won’t let him.”

“Neither will I,” Ryan replied quietly.

“Whatever it takes.”

“Exactly,” Ryan said. 

They moved forward and clasped each other’s arms tightly. It felt like it had down in the Furnace, but this time Michael could see something different in Ryan’s eyes. He remembered what’d he’d said before. _That weakness. It won’t happen again._

There was something dark and angry to the way their magic swelled. It felt like the dangerous Wild, how it had scared Michael when he looked at it that first time from atop the wall with Gavin. But he wasn’t scared, now. He felt like he was the one who would frighten people - who _wanted_ to frighten people.

And looking at Ryan - feeling that connection - for a moment he wanted to kiss him, too. To complete the circle, in a way. He could feel the rough scar on Ryan’s palm where he’d cut his hand to bind them all together in blood.

But not right now.

Right now, they had a battle to fight - for this. For _them_.

 

* * *

 

By the time Gavin finished his story, Midas had migrated from the opposite side of the table to the seat right next to him.

There was a great array of sweets spread out in front of them - platters of fruits dipped in a rich, dark chocolate. Bowls of mango pudding topped with tiny flecks of gold. A sweet steamed rice cake that tasted of coconuts, in colourful layers that peeled away as you ate them. 

Midas had apparently spent his long exile learning how to cook.

Gavin was too suspicious to eat. Midas took no offence, just tucked in with gusto himself, munching heartily away while he listened to Gavin with rapt attention.

It was strange to tell the whole story from beginning to end. The entire thing - starting with running from the orphanage, to meeting Jack and Geoff. Wanting so desperately to find his parents. The games - from his point of view, though he was a little more objective about it by now - and building up his Wild kingdom. And then the second beast, and their quest to the temples. Geoff’s death - that still choked him up a little to talk about. And finally, their quest to the Nether, and how it had brought them here.

When it was over, Gavin fell silent. Midas had been listening reverently, nodding now and then. At the story’s close, he looked thoughtful, staring at Gavin for a long moment.

Gavin looked away, feeling a bit awkward now. It hit him how surreal this was - sitting here at a table filled with bloody _dessert_ , the ancient King Midas beside him who he’d heard so many legends about. It all felt a bit like a dream. He reached out and ate a cake for lack of anything else to do. It was actually rather good.

Finally, Midas stirred and looked over at him.

“Gavin Free,” he breathed, and there was a reverent awe in his voice. “That is one of the most fantastic tales I’ve ever heard.”

“Um,” Gavin replied, through a mouthful of pudding. “Thank you. I used to tell stories for a living.”

“No, not that!” Midas cried. “ _You!_ I don’t doubt you are very close to the other kings - they’re your friends after all, and they sound like fine people. But to rise from… from orphan to king, to play the others in that manner, to slay the beast on your own, defying Ramsey’s orders - it’s triumphant! Glorious! You truly earned your gift!”

“Thank you?” Gavin replied, a little hesitantly. He hadn’t expected such an exuberant reaction, and felt suddenly quite shy. After the hatred and scorn his actions had received in the Stoneworld and the Plains, it was nice for someone outside the circle of kings to praise him.

“I am honoured to sit here and dine with you,” Midas insisted.

“Dine,” Gavin said, laughing a little at the spread before them. Midas followed his gaze, and clenched his fists fiercely.

“I fucking _love_ dessert,” he said, and Gavin had to chuckle, a bit awkwardly.

“Right. Me too.”

“I am _so pleased_ you have come here,” Midas continued, and scooted even closer to him, leaning in conspiratorially, “Because I feel that when you hear _my_ side of things, we will so deeply understand one another. And hopefully work together.”

“Right,” Gavin said. “You still haven’t told me what that’s all about.”

“Of course. Let me tell you my story, now,” Midas replied. “The Endermen’s memories that you mentioned - you’ll have seen a little of it there, but you only saw their side of things. And as I’m sure you’re well aware, people view the same events very, very differently.”

“Right,” Gavin murmured.

Midas rose, and began to pace. Gavin was quite relieved; he had been getting rather uncomfortably close.

“Back when I was young,” Midas began, “The lands were not divided as they are now. There were many smaller countries, with various leaders, and incessant conflict. I lived by the sea in a little, poor kingdom. The king was corrupt - life was hard for many of us. My parents died when I was only a young child. I grew up alone on the streets - as I’m sure you can sympathise with.”

Gavin nodded.

“Everyone in all the lands heard tales back then. Tales of people with supernatural abilities - some called them heroes. Some called them gods. Some people thought they were only myths - others swore they’d encountered them. When I got older, I left my home and wandered across the land seeking better fortune. But the countries were divided then - not the way they are now, not by their biomes and their gifts, but by other things. Language, belief, colour. I was nothing but a young beggar from a foreign land - I was shunned, driven away from many towns.

“It was okay, though. I decided I didn’t want to go to the cities anyway. I ended up following travellers and players around, helping them repair their equipment in exchange for a hot meal at night. By the campfire they told me stories of the Woodland Realm - a magical forest up in the north where those heroes came from. I heard of the gifts, of a golden tower. It was said to be horrifyingly dangerous - but if you were smart, and strong, and worthy, you could receive great power.”

Gavin watched in silence. The worst part of all this was, if he’d heard the same stories in his youth, he could perfectly well imagine _himself_ risking everything to chase a legend like that. It all felt far too relatable.

“So I went there,” Midas continued, “And, well, you know the next part. I sought out the tower. Back then, the Endermen must’ve thought me worthy. I got into the temple, I solved the puzzles - oh, they took me hours, but I did it. And then I touched the tower and received my magic. The power to turn anything into solid gold.”

He stared down at his hands, and for a moment, despite his face being older now, broader and weathered - Gavin could see a glimpse of that young, awestruck, skinny thief that he’d watched in the Endermen’s memories.

“Sometimes I wonder why it gave me that,” Midas said. “If it thought it was what I needed at the time. Or if it believed me greedy and was playing on that one trait. A gift - or a curse?”

“Is that how the gifts usually worked?” Gavin asked. “They suited the person who came for them?”

“Yes,” Midas replied, “Or at least that was one theory. At first, I couldn’t do much with it. Only small things before my power ran dry. But I practiced - and before long, I was selling gold to make a fortune for myself. People heard of me, of course. The legend spread. They came and began asking me to bless them, to help them, to transform just one thing - charity cases, you know. People asking for help. I gave it to many.”

He looked away, face darkening.

“But others,” he muttered, “Others just wanted to use me. To abuse my power. They tried to befriend me, to be close to me just for the chance to get rich. Or they tried to threaten those I did end up loving, using them to get me to make things. I would not stand for that. There was one woman - I loved her, but I won’t bore you with the details of how we met - and the baron of a nearby town kidnapped her and demanded a great ransom. They thought me weak, benevolent - just a machine to make them money.”

This had taken a rather abrupt turn, and something about the look on Midas’ face made Gavin rather uneasy. He’d stopped pacing and was standing and staring at a fruit bowl on his kitchen counter.

“I was so _angry_ ,” he said. “I went to his town, his castle, where he was holding her. His soldiers tried to stop me. They were the first people I ever killed - I turned them to gold. And then I went to his castle, only to find he had already killed her.”

Gavin bit his lip; he’d expected it, but Midas’ cold calm was somehow even scarier than if the memory had made him emotional.

“I transformed the entire building. Everyone inside - his servants, his wife and children, the baron himself.  And in my grief… in my grief my gift was unleashed. I am not proud of it, but I killed the entire village - turned it to solid gold. It was an accident,” he added, and there was a defensiveness to his tone that made Gavin suspect he’d had to justify this many times before, either to himself or others. “I’m sure you’ve had them, too.”

Gavin thought of his grief after Geoff died, the uncontrollable explosions of the creepers. If he had had Midas’ gift, or Ryan’s - he could see himself letting it loose, an uncontained tidal wave of emotion. He had to nod.

Midas stared at him a long moment, then shook himself.

“But I was powerful,” he continued. “The baron had angered me, and humanity suffered for it. It was in that moment that I realised that I was no longer a man. I was a god - a god whose wrath should be feared, and those around me should treat me like one-”

“Wait, wait,” Gavin cut in - “That’s a sudden bloody switch!”

“Is it?” Midas demanded, and stepped towards him. His voice was kind in the way of an adult trying to explain something that should have been obvious to a small child. “Little Gavin Free - you don’t think you’re human, do you?”

The question took Gavin aback; he gaped for a moment.

“I mean - I _did_ , until you said that. I know I’m a witch, but-”

“No, no!” Midas cried, “Even the witches are human. Humans with some magic, yes, but not like us. You…” He leaned across the table towards Gavin, eyes boring into his intently.

“You’ve _ascended_ ,” he breathed, “Just like the rest of us. Do you think a human could survive the Nether? You think a human could command the clerics?” He looked over his shoulder at the Endermen. Gavin could feel their simmering hatred every second they were here. It nearly frightened him, reminded him of all his nightmares about the mobs suddenly refusing to obey his commands. “You received a _gift_ , Gavin.”

“Gods don’t exist,” Gavin managed, and Midas laughed.

“Not in the way that most people think. We are _destined_ to rule, to preside over humanity - that’s how it _works_ , you know that. It is written into the laws of our existence. Whoever has the crown, the gift, they become _more_. That’s why the people will always follow whoever inherits. That’s _why_.”

Gavin stared at him. It would’ve been easy to dismiss the words as the arrogant ravings of a man who’d been trapped here alone with nothing but his resentment for far too long - but hadn’t he _felt_ something, when he took the crown? Didn’t they _all_ feel something, were bound together in some extraordinary way - hadn’t their world _always_ worked like that, the gifts bestowing not only power, but the _right_ to rule?

“I am not just a tool for people to use,” Midas continued, fiercely. He picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and turned it to gold before Gavin’s eyes; there was something beautiful to the transformation, something almost hypnotic to the sheen of the new gold, glowing faintly. 

“Not just a party trick. Not a circus attraction. No, I was to be _feared_. And so I began to expand my kingdom - I built my own _city_ , hired soldiers loyal to me. If they could prove themselves trustworthy, they received great benefits, wealth beyond measure. But anyone not there for the right reasons - well, they were eliminated. There were many who tried to trick me, who I thought wanted refuge in my palace but sought only to use me for their own gain. I had to execute them to make an example. Sometimes you have to do that, you know? Show a few the punishment, so the rest can be safe. That makes some good sense to me.”

Gavin didn’t quite agree with that. It seemed fairly apparent that Midas had a few issues with paranoia, but he was hardly about to say that out loud.

“But gold is not everything,” Midas said, seeming to notice the look on his face. “I needed other riches, food, more allies. I began to expand my territory. Those petty human kings could work with me - I offered them many benefits! They would have kept their kingdoms and received treasures for _all_ their people! But no, _no!_ Many refused - a very stupid choice! They saw nothing but a thief in me. A thief with a magic touch, but still a beggar, a commoner, not someone born into nobility like them. So they treated me with disdain, some even tried to threaten me. And those who did, well - I had to show them their place.”

From the look on his face and the way he had picked up a banana and was slowly turning it to gold, Gavin was pretty sure he could guess what _showing them their place_ involved. 

“Unfortunately,” Midas said, and his mouth twisted angrily, “The other gifted felt the same. They despised me - because I started from the least, and grew into the most powerful! They plotted to trick and trap me, and as you saw - they succeeded! They threw me in here, hoping I would die - but time works differently in the End. I do not age. There were already plants here, human crops the Endermen had brought with them from trips to Earth. And books, with knowledge - the Endermen’s own gathered over centuries. They thought I would give up, thought I could never escape. But as usual, they underestimated me.”

Didn’t Gavin know that feeling all too well.

“I gathered the Wither and told them I would free them. That together we’d work to return them to their rightful place in their real world, after their unfair punishment. From there, they agreed to work for me. We created farms, this castle - we drove away any Endermen still in this area. And so I bided my time.”

“The portal,” Gavin said, confused. “You can’t just go back through?”

Midas shook his head.

“Intermediary portals between here and the Nether and other such places - I can build and traverse those with ease. To Earth or to Atlantis, it’s a little more complicated. There must be a… well, I suppose one might call it an _exchange_.”

“Of?”

“Of equal magic,” Midas said, “And within a limited time frame. But I will get to that, Wild king - patience, yes? Keep listening. I gathered the Wither army. I told them stories to remind them of the world they came from, to stop them forgetting any more. And then - a great quest, imagine this - I sought out the beasts, in their shadowy mountains. I spoke to them, told them they could be restored to even more glory, that they could come through with me and reign over Earth as well. I promised them the crowns.”

He cast another hateful look at the Endermen, and clenched his fists.

“All of us,” he whispered, and his voice was as soft as it had been in Gavin’s dreams, seeming to worm its way into the innermost corners of his mind, “The betrayed, the lowly, those judged as sinners and monsters - for too long we have been cast into the shadows. It is time for us to reclaim what we deserve.”

“The beasts would destroy human cities,” Gavin began, but Midas shook his head.

“Not if they were given riches. Not if they were given space and freedom. The beast you fought - was it not happy in its cavern until you disturbed it? All it wanted was a piece of magic. A piece of the powerful tower. With that, it would be content.”

Gavin… actually couldn’t fucking argue with that. The beast hadn’t emerged from the Wild, hadn’t attacked the Stoneworld. And the dragon had very clearly been after the crown. Who was to say that if he hadn’t gone after it, it wouldn’t have spent the rest of its life happily pottering about with its new accessory?

“I told them I would give it to them,” Midas said. “One for each beast. But I knew we could not leave, not without outside help. Which is where your father comes in.”

The words made Gavin jolt in his seat. Midas’ story had been interesting, yes, but _this_ was what he was really here for. His heart pounded as he realised the questions he’d held his entire life were about to be answered - it was fucking _terrifying_ , to be honest, and he had to clench his fists to stop his hands shaking.

Midas looked over at him, and his face softened. He walked over and sat across from Gavin again, reaching out to put one big, warm hand on his arm. Gavin stiffened, but Midas just looked at him earnestly.

“I considered your father a dear friend,” he informed him. “I consider _you_ a dear friend now, too!”

Yikes, that was one fast forming friendship. Gavin didn’t answer, just stared at him pleadingly, waiting for him to talk.

“The portal had been shut for a long time,” Midas explained. “It had to be opened before I could even begin to think of escape. So I built my castle right next to it, waiting for the day to come. After many, many years, people from the Woodland kingdom rediscovered the temple and opened the portal. As soon as it happened, I stepped through.”

“Wait, you-”

“It didn’t work,” Midas said immediately. “I tried to escape but I was thrown backwards. A massive force of magic was unleashed and I felt it sweep through the Woodlands, turning it into the Wild. I never wanted that, never intended it to happen - it must’ve been a side effect of me trying to break through the magic used to imprison me. It killed so many, destroyed an entire civilisation - and the few survivors understandably sealed the portal before I even had a chance to talk to them.”

“So that’s what caused it,” Gavin murmured, and Midas gave a solemn nod.

“Some may blame me,” he began, “But I blame _them_.”

He cast another glare at the Endermen, and Gavin bit his lip. He didn’t know what to think.  
  
“After that,” Midas continued, “The portal lay untouched for hundreds more years until finally, it was opened again - by a single man this time. Now, when the portal is open, I can feel the Kings. I’m a part of their bond, but it only goes one way. They can’t feel me as long as I’m trapped in this End. I could sense him by the portal, could speak to him through it, but we could not see one another.”

“My father,” Gavin whispered, and Midas nodded.

“Robin. He was a thief, just like yourself, though not so much for necessity. He was a soldier of the Stoneworld until the brutality of the Haywood regime became too much for him to stand. He defected during one of the wars with the Alps, and fled to the Wild where he would steal from Queen Haywood’s expeditions. Then came the great war between the bandits - Robin stood against the Wild Queen, too, and led a faction against her. He won, and slew her on the steps of the Wild throne before taking the crown for himself. He had the witches on his side - was one of the few they trusted. It was while he was exploring the Wild for more treasures to fund his new leadership that he found the portal.”

“What sort of king was he?” Gavin blurted out. This was all very overwhelming - despite finally having answers, he felt more torn than ever. _So where are my origins? The Stoneworld, now, too?_

“I will not lie, he was perhaps not as noble as rebelling against Haywood may be leading you to believe,” Midas said, but chuckled. “He was… mischievous. He hated the current system of rule and believed that everyone should just be free to live as they wished. He especially resented the Stoneworld, with its wall and its army. When he took the crown he did keep the mobs mostly in line, but he didn’t do much to control the bandits themselves.”

Gavin swallowed, taking this in.

“So you two spoke,” he began, and Midas nodded.

“We got on immediately. He was intrigued by my story and I sympathised with his. I told him of my imprisonment and my gift, and he was very interested. It was the first time I had spoken to someone in centuries. He was a delightful man - quick-witted, very funny. Very sharp, with a fantastic mind for strategy. I suggested that should he free me from the Wild, we might change the entire order of the land together. We would rule as gods, we would tear down the nobility and instead let everyone live in prosperity together, so long as they behaved well.”

“And he agreed?”

“He was very onboard with the idea! We began researching how to get me out of there. I was afraid to try and step through without causing more destruction to Earth. During our discussions, he told me more about himself. He was in love with one of the witches and was quite close to their group. But he feared the other bandits had designs on his crown, that a group of them were scheming to attack them.”

“My mother,” Gavin began, and Midas’ face softened.

“Yes, that was her. I spoke to your father for several months and he would update me on her pregnancy, though he never brought her near the portal. You were born in the Wild, but only a few days later Robin returned in a great panic. I’ll never forget hearing him say it. _I’m going to step through.”_

Gavin’s breath caught a little. He was trying to picture it all, but it was overwhelming. Still - there was a genuine fondness in Midas’ voice, like he really had liked Robin.

“That was the first and only time we met face to face,” Midas said. “He came with news. He had spoken to the witches and discovered a way for me to return through the portal. Magic had to be exchanged for magic. If he sent a mob through, I could send something from here back, as long as I did it quickly enough that the magic of his creature’s passing was still keeping the portal safe to use. But for me - for me, I had been bound by the Endermen. It would take more than that for me to be released. A token of some kind - some bonding of his magic to mine that would shroud me and deceive the portal long enough for me to return.”

“What did he look like?” Gavin asked. He was more interested in Robin than the rest of this tale, important as it was.

“Your father? Very much like you. The same features.”

“Is that your way of saying he had a big nose?” Gavin asked, and Midas roared with laughter.

“I mean… yes, essentially. He had the same colouring,” he added. “Except for your eyes. Those, I presume, are from your mother.”

Gavin managed a small smile.

“How excited I was!” Midas continued. “Finally I could escape! But he also brought bad news. The bandits were planning an attack against him. He’d already sent his wife and their newborn out to safety, telling her to flee to the Plains. He was going to bring his mobs to kill those who had designs on the crown, and after that, he promised he’d return for me. He told me to prepare my army and get ready for him to send mobs through as soon as he’d finished dealing with the Wild threat. I agreed. We embraced. It was a very emotional moment for both of us. I may have wept a little.”

“Uh. Okay.”

“Robin was the first man I’d spoken to in thousands of years. The first human touch I’d felt since my banishment. I was so excited to get out of here.” Midas’ face darkened again, and he looked away. “But after he left… he never returned. I waited - and waited, still hoping - but I never knew what happened. And here in the End - it was hard to tell how much time had passed. I always get so confused.”

“You couldn’t feel the changes in inheritance in the bond?”

Midas shook his head.

“No. All I feel is that the magic still exists, that the tower is still present in your world, that there are others there holding the same power. I come from a time before the great split, that might be why. I can feel you all, but not as individuals. Not, I suspect, the way you all feel each other.”

So he wasn’t privy to everything in the bond. That was a relief, at least. Gavin swallowed, and looked up at Midas.

“My father is dead,” he said. “He must be, since the Wild crown’s changed hands so many times since then. My mother left me at an orphanage in the Plains. She might’ve gone back to the Wild to find him. I still need to seek out the witches to get those answers. Do you know her name? That will make things easier.”

“Maria,” Midas said, and it _hit_ Gavin then - he knew their names, both their _names_ \- it sent a great crushing pressure through his chest, and he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears sting at his eyes.

After so long, so long with his parents nothing but faceless forms, not a memory to go by - _he knew their names_ , and that meant more than he could ever say.

“Are you crying?” Midas demanded, sounding very alarmed. He rushed to Gavin’s side and put an arm around him, and Gavin hadn’t the presence of mind to pull away even as Midas crushed him to his broad chest. He stifled a wince as it jostled the wound in his side. “Oh, Gavin! How you _look_ like him! When I felt you through the portal that first time, I thought he had returned. When I realised it was another - I panicked. I didn’t know what to think.”

“You mentioned the Nether,” Gavin managed, in a thick, choked voice. “It was because of that we knew we could get Geoff back.”

“I’m glad I could help Robin’s son in any way. You remind me of him so much! He would be so proud to see what you’ve become. Your mother, too. Your magic is powerful. Even now I can feel it. We can do great things together.”

Gavin shifted, and Midas released him. He reached up and swiped at his eyes, still quite unsure about all this. He wished the others were here. He wanted Michael’s warm arms around him, Jack’s steady presence. Ryan’s wisdom, to tell him what to believe and who to trust.

“But the story isn’t finished,” Midas said. “A long time after that, another Wild king found the portal. He sent nothing through but a single mob, and didn’t stop to talk. I believed it was Robin, sending me the signal at last. Because of that, I sent the first beast back through to claim the Wild crown. That was our arrangement - that Robin should give his up first, to prove to the beasts that we’d keep our word. But he never sent any mobs after that, never arrived himself. I was terribly confused - our plan came to nothing, because of that.”

“That was the Wild king before me,” Gavin said. “Weisheng. The beast killed him. He didn’t realise what the portal was.”

“It makes sense. Some time later, something else came through. A metal creature filled with redstone magic.”

“One of Ryan’s golems!” Gavin exclaimed. “It must have wandered in by accident. He used to send them to the Wild. I thought I’d cleared them all - I must have missed one.”

“I wasn’t sure what it was, but it had enough magic in it that I could send another beast through.”

“The dragon.”

“Yes - I’d promised her the Plains crown. And then, later on, more draugr were sent through. I believed it was time, and sent the Wither army.”

“That was us, the first time we discovered the portal. The Wither attacked us immediately,” Gavin said, “I suppose because they didn’t see Robin and thought us enemies.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Midas said. “It’s hard to communicate through that thing. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have. Seems like a great big misunderstanding on all ends! Eventually when you closed the portal again, I didn’t know what to do. By then I knew Robin was dead. I thought I might find him in the Nether. It took me too long to gather the supplies to make the portal - by the time I got there, he’d passed on.”

A long silence fell. Gavin was struggling to process all this.

He didn’t feel as though he was in danger, now. Unless Midas was lying about everything, he didn’t think the man was his enemy. Everything he said made too much _sense_ , and there was something to his fierce determination that made it quite clear that he believed deeply in everything he was saying.

But he just - had no idea what to _think_ , about any of this. About all Midas had told him, about what he should do now.

“What do you want?” he whispered then. “You said we could work together - what do you _want_?”

“To return to my world. My home. Our Earth. And for us _all_ to receive what we deserve.”

“Which is?”

“Worship,” Midas said, his eyes sparkling. “Freedom. The humans will bow before us. We will not be cruel masters, but they must acknowledge our power. There is a reason it was given to us. And Gavin, dear Gavin - I’m so excited by what you have told me about how you and the other kings love one another so much. How you are already working together. It’s destiny, isn’t it? It’s meant to be. I don’t believe I was meant to leave with Robin. Not with Tamora Haywood on the throne, not back when the kingdoms were divided, oh no. No, it was never meant to be him - it was meant to be you! Now the time is right for the gods to return - now, when the circle can be completed and the pieces of the tower united once more! There would have been conflict between the gifted, otherwise - but you said you are all together. You said there is _peace_. That seems, to me, a very good starting point.”

Gavin bit his lip.  
  
“Peace between the six of us, perhaps,” he said. “But not in the kingdoms. Ryan’s people have turned against him.”

“The Stone king? It’s little wonder. The men of that city are as barbaric as their leaders once were. They remind me of the kings who used to belittle me back when I first received my gift.”

“There’s been an uprising. They’ve taken Ryan’s crown.”

“What?” Midas bristled with outrage. “It is not _theirs_ \- he has the gift! _He_ has the right to rule! Truly, Gavin, this must be fate - I will help him reclaim it, and they will be forced to their knees before his might.”

“You’d help us,” Gavin said, and Midas gave a furious nod. 

“Of course I would! We must stick together, _all_ of us, to create our new world.”

Gavin wrapped his arms around himself. He didn’t know _what_ to think. For a moment - for a fleeting _moment_ \- he was almost tempted to accept, if only because Midas was staring at him with a genuine _love_ in his eyes. _My father. How truly he loved my father - and my father would have brought him_ back. _He trusted him._

_Should that mean anything to me? You never even knew him._

_But it was my_ dad.

_What does that matter? You still know hardly bloody anything about what he was like. How can you trust nothing but a dead man’s judgment, a dead man you still have no memory of?_

And at the back of his mind, he could still feel the simmering hate and anger of the Endermen. Their purple eyes burned into the back of Midas’ head where they stood against the kitchen wall.

They _don’t trust him. They sent him here for a reason - because he is so dangerous. If you release him, he has the chance to cause even more pain and suffering. He is emotional, has a hot temperament, even now you can see that. He would go out of control immediately_.

Yet he felt so _drawn_ to some of the things Midas had said.

“I… I need to think about it,” he managed, weakly, and Midas nodded.

“Of course. That is understandable. But Gavin, tell me - you and I, we understand each other, don’t we? We started from nothing, all of us - you, and me, and Robin. And we will always know that, in our hearts. That we were once nothing but thieves.”

“Yes,” Gavin whispered.  
  
“But we became so much _more_. By our own willpower, our own hard work. You told me during your story - they hate you throughout the kingdoms. They should not. You earned that crown. You earned their respect. Yet they refuse to grant it to you when they do all the other kings. You know why it is, don’t you? It’s not just because of the games. It’s because they still see you as that. Little thief boy. Just a witch.”

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut. He thought of the way the Stone court had looked at him. How Tamora had spoken to him so mockingly. How he’d held his head high, but it still _hurt_.

How it was stopping him from being with all the others - the fear of that judgment, of how it would hurt all of them.

_Haven’t we earned our freedom?_

“You will never be free until you make them see you for what you really are,” Midas said, eyes shining. “A King. A god. Bearer of a tremendous gift. You are scared, scared that if you _demand_ what you are owed, you will be seen as cruel. As a tyrant, maybe. That you are being _unfair_ to them. I will not rush you, Wild king, I will not force you to take me back to your land. But tonight, tonight as you dwell on all that I’ve told you so far - and I know it must be a lot to take in - I want you just to think about one question.”

Gavin nodded, slowly. Green eyes stared up into golden ones, and for the first time he felt the same stir of magic between them that he always felt with the others. An awakening of some deeper bond.

Midas leaned in, careful now not to touch him, nothing except his hot breath a whisper against Gavin’s ear.

“Who do _you_ owe?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** [My fanmix for Part II of the story <3](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/walking-blind) **
> 
> **[A graphics set I also made.](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/157921467634/they-call-you-a-witch-as-though-magic-is) **
> 
>  


	12. Chapter 12

Gavin drifted in and out of restless sleep. Several times he roused, half-awake and unsure where he was, to find nothing but glowing purple eyes in the dark as the Endermen gathered around his bed stared at him. He felt a vague tendril of fear, like the moments after you stir from a half forgotten nightmare, there in the middle of a circle of beasts like he was the sacrifice in some pagan ritual. But it passed, and he slept again, in little fits and starts.

As usual, he dreamed of Midas.

This time the other man was more fully fleshed out - he wasn’t the king Gavin had seen in the Endermen’s memories, but the one he’d met here in the End. Plump and hearty and exuberant. The two of them were looking for beasts in the shadows of the End mountains. Gavin’s heart was pounding, but he wasn’t scared. Midas could kill with a touch, and the beasts would kneel before them, anyway. They held a power beyond all men.

He woke with a jolt right at the moment they were about to enter the dragon’s lair. He wasn’t sure what woke him - it hadn’t been a scary part of the dream - but for a moment he sat, seized with some uncertain panic, gasping and clutching his side.

He felt groggy and sick, and his injury burned. For a moment he didn’t know where he was, and it took a moment for him to register the purple sky outside the window - and then the Overlord’s enormous, shining arsehole pointed right in his fucking face like some obscene, winking star. 

_The End,_ he remembered. _Midas’ guest room._

It all came back to him, and for a moment he suddenly missed the other kings so intensely that he felt tears well up in his eyes and a lump rise in his throat. He could feel them all in his mind, but couldn’t reach out to touch them like he usually might.

Gavin could cry, suddenly. Here in this other world, he felt nothing but lonely and confused, and he desperately wished he was home and safe in Geoff and Jack’s arms. He didn’t know what to do. Sleeping on it hadn’t helped one bit. He didn’t think he could trust Midas, but what did that mean? Should he just kill him? Destroy the portal and leave him trapped here forever?  
  
The two of them were so _similar_ , in their experiences and their particular anxieties, that the thought of turning on him left a bad taste in Gavin’s mouth.

So similar that some small, bitter part of himself almost wanted to believe that Midas might be onto something here.

His wound was throbbing incessantly, rising in little swells to a sharp point of pain that made him feel sick. He lifted his shirt and wormed his fingers under the bandages only to flinch, biting hard on his lip to avoid yelling in pain. His skin was tender, and alarmingly warm. All the running around he’d done since the injury probably hadn’t helped.

_Get up,_ he thought. _Get up and deal with this and go home._

Still - for a moment, like a child, it felt like if he only stayed in bed all his problems would be magically put on hold. But the Endermen were standing, staring at him with their accusing, violet gaze, and he forced himself to get up.

He drank one of the healing potions Ryan had given him, and splashed more of it onto the bandages. The pain died down into something dull enough that he could ignore it, and he forced it away and emerged from the room.

The castle was big, but it wasn’t hard to find Midas. He was snoring loudly enough that it was audible everywhere in the building, and Gavin just had to track down the source of the noise, heading up another flight of spiralling stairs to the master bedroom. 

Midas was sprawled flat on his back in the middle of an enormous bed. Gavin lingered in the doorway, watching him sleep. For a moment, the Gold king seemed so incredibly _human_ \- his breath coming in thunderous bursts, his beer gut rising and falling rhythmically. The room smelled of sweat and lemongrass - he hadn’t even locked his door, and if Gavin had wanted, he could have thrown a knife from where he stood and buried it in his heart in an instant.

He already knew he wouldn’t be able to do it. What he still wasn’t sure of was if he _should_ , and he bit his lip and turned away, heading back down the stairs and out into the gardens.

 

* * *

 

Gavin was wandering through the fields of crops when Midas came to find him. His bag was packed and on his back, and he was marvelling at how much Midas had created here. The Wither were picking plants and putting them in little wicker baskets. Unlike Gavin’s mobs, which stuck to their set task until he ordered them otherwise, they paused and looked up at him as he passed, some of them stopping and staring for a long moment. He felt quite uneasy around them, even with his Endermen trailing behind him.

“Gavin!” Midas called out eventually, and Gavin paused and turned towards him. He’d circled back towards the castle and was now in a little courtyard leading up to the back door. The wall was behind him, and through the gates the distant black mountains were visible. He’d thought he saw something immense flying over the hills before, but in a blink it had vanished.

“I was wondering where you went!” Midas cried. He was wearing proper clothes today; a thick silk robe with patterns of flowers embroidered in spun gold thread. Gavin felt a flash of something almost self-conscious. He was used to his creeperskin clothes by now, and proud of them, but suddenly he didn’t feel very kingly in comparison.

“I was scared you might have left in the night,” Midas continued, and his eyes ran over the bag Gavin was still carrying. “Come, have breakfast-”

“I’m not really hungry.” 

It came out tight, a little abrupt - this morning, even more than last night, he just had no idea what to think of the other man.

Midas frowned a little, but he didn’t seem angry.

“Didn’t sleep well?” he asked instead, something gentle in his voice.

Gavin reached up and rubbed at his eyes. He felt exhausted, his limbs heavy and head throbbing. It seemed like that feeling had been endless lately.

“I rarely do nowadays,” he muttered. “My dreams, I… I dreamed of you so many nights.”

“Ah yes - I recall you mentioning it. I’m quite curious about that as well. What sort of dreams?”

Midas shuffled closer, and Gavin was too tired to stop him, leaning against the wall instead.

“Usually… usually people would be after us. Soldiers, trying to arrest us for stealing. They’d be angry with us, or there’d be some sort of danger. Then you’d appear and save me by turning all of them to gold. You’d say something about freedom. They felt so real - like you were in my head, talking to me.” He barked out a harsh laugh. “I… I thought you might still be speaking to me through the portal, somehow.”

“I wish I had that level of power! I might’ve gotten out of here years ago if I could communicate with the kings in my sleep. No, Gavin, I think it’s far simpler than that. I think it’s destiny.”

“Right,” Gavin snorted. “Because that’s so simple.”

“You seek a complicated explanation because I think some part of you still struggles to comprehend that there’s real _magic_ in our world, Gavin. Magic from a very powerful source - a source that you now carry within you. All of us kings do. If the tower can grant you the power to command the mobs, why should it not grant you the power to sense your fate? Is that so hard to believe?”

Gavin bit his lip, and looked away.

“The Endermen,” Midas continued, “When you went into their memories, some part of you connected with them. Once you’ve seen through someone else’s eyes - literally _through_ them - you’re not quite yourself anymore. Some part of them is still in you, always will be. And what you saw - whether you realised it or not, something in you must’ve recognised how _similar_ we are. How our fates must intertwine and parallel one another. All of that combined with how much magic is already in you… it’s bound to give you strange dreams. Dreams that helped lead you to me.”

Gavin didn’t know what to say. There was such blind faith in Midas’ voice that his words were almost seductive, inviting Gavin to so easily _believe_ as well.

The silence stretched on, and finally Midas sighed.

“I have a question for you, Gavin.”

“Go ahead.”

“Do you feel like a king?”

Gavin froze. It should’ve been simple enough - but suddenly it had him thinking, far too much. He felt powerful, that was for sure - when he was in his own kingdom, surrounded by his mob army. When he could look at everything he had built and know it was all _his_ doing. When his people looked to him for leadership. When he led monsters into battle.

But those moments, lately, had seemed fewer and further between than ever.

When he was in the Desert and the Alps, Ray and Michael’s men had respected and even feared him - to some degree. They’d seen him as a mystery, a curiosity - a funny little wild man who could help them with his strange powers. But had they seen him as a _king_? Not really. An assistant, a soldier, a mage, yes. But not their leader.

The Plains and Stoneworld had been even worse; around the court rather than the army, the nobility’s contempt for him was undisguised. In their eyes he was a filthy little creature, a robber who pranced about in the woods and held power he didn’t deserve. He’d held his head high - but he’d _felt_ it.

Did he feel like a king? Perhaps, in the way that the Wild crown was different to all the others. But not, he suspected, the way Geoff and Jack felt like kings, or Ryan with his devotion to improvement, or Ray with his politics, or Michael with his men.

He shook his head, and Midas’ lips pressed together tightly.

“Then what?” he urged. “Soldier, bandit…?”

“Rogue,” Gavin murmured, but even that didn’t quite fit. _Witch? I barely know them, barely know my own people. My own family. My mother might have relatives out there, but even they would be strangers to me._

Midas bowed his head thoughtfully. Another silence fell, and Gavin wondered what was running through his mind. What _he_ thought of Gavin.

“There’s a meeting in the Stoneworld today,” he blurted out. “Ryan and the… the counsellors who rose up against him. All the other kings are going to be there. It’s our chance to try and get his crown back peacefully. Jack was pretty convinced that in the face of our alliance, they’ll back down. I’m not so sure.”

Midas’ head snapped up.

“Take me with you!” he said, eagerly. “When they see me, they will cower.”

“I can’t just _bring you back_ like… like some sort of trump card.”

“Why not? They need to understand the power they are dealing with. This is not a game, Gavin, or at least not the sort they can win. This is what we are _owed_ \- not through some petty birthright but through our own hard work, and no one should take it from me, or from you, or from your Ryan. They will be forced to _see_ \- it will be a meeting that will go down in history.”

“I don’t know,” Gavin managed, and Midas stepped forward, earnestly.

“Gavin - you owe no loyalty to these people! Let us show them our _power_ \- have they ever seen you properly commanding your mobs? They will be amazed - they’ll truly see you as a King!”

“I don’t want to come across as a threat. That’s not the point of this meeting.”  
  
“Isn’t it? You said yourself you were showing off the alliance, your _combined_ power. You told me of all you built in the Wild - you should be proud of it! But others should also acknowledge all you’ve done. Let this be a start! Not to mention,” Midas added fiercely, “Ryan needs his crown back for this _all_ to work. For the six of you - and myself, eventually - for the circle to be complete, for balance to be restored, for us all to get what we deserve.”  
  
“What we deserve,” Gavin repeated - he _liked_ the thought of that, and all Midas was saying made sense. He had done a lot. He wished others would see it. Now was the chance.

“Exactly - you’ve been fighting for so long and for this to happen right after you rescued Geoff? It’s a slap in the damn face of your accomplishments - I wouldn’t stand for it, not me, no!”

“We should’ve earned more than this by now,” Gavin murmured, and Midas nodded furiously.

“Exactly! Now you start to _see!”_

“How would you do it, though?” Gavin asked, shaking himself. As much as the thought of a quick and easy end to all this conflict appealed to him, he still had a worming unease about the whole situation.

“I mean, we’d probably have to make a few examples of people first,” Midas said, and flapped a dismissive hand. “But you always do.”

“What, like… kill them?”

“Turn them to gold,” Midas said, and gave a ferocious grin. “Signature move. Puts the shits into people. Proves we’re serious _and_ gets some delicious rumours spreading.”

“No, but that’s… that should be a last measure. You can’t just kill someone so easily,” Gavin argued. “This is a peaceful meeting. Couldn’t you just turn something else to gold in front of them? One of the mobs, maybe.”

“Yes, but it will not be quite as dramatic.” Midas looked a little put out. “Why do you defend them? Gavin, son - you owe them _nothing_ -”

_Son._ That sent a horrible jolt through him - he knew Midas meant nothing by it, but it hit something still far too raw inside him.

“Please,” Midas continued, “You must _see_ that. It pains me terribly that you still can’t see how you are _more_ than them. How you need to start going out and taking what you want-”

“I know plenty about going and taking what I want!” Gavin cried, defensively. “You… you shouldn’t _hurt_ people in the process - you should try and avoid that!”

“Who’s that talking?” Midas scoffed. Somehow, his derision _hurt_. “Is that King Jack’s influence? It’s no wonder, he won his crown easily-”

“Don’t you fucking say that,” Gavin spat, with a sudden, vicious spurt of anger. “Geoff died because of _your_ Wither!”

Midas flinched, and Gavin felt a sudden heat rise in his chest. He was stressed, stressed about letting Midas out, about not knowing what to do, about the upcoming meeting, and that anger flared out suddenly as he strode forward, getting up in Midas’ face.

“ _You can’t just kill people!”_ he yelled. “You can’t just see them as beneath you - we were human once, too!”

Midas’ face clouded over, and Gavin gasped as suddenly the other man’s hands were on his shoulders and he was shoved back against the wall. His back hit the stone so hard that it knocked the breath out of him; pain flared through his side and blinded him for a moment. Midas loomed over him, face dark with anger, and he slammed a fist to the wall beside Gavin’s head. A flare of gold shot out across the stone, and Gavin’s heart slammed in his chest.

“Can’t you see that they _don't care about you?”_ Midas hissed, and his voice was so dark, and dangerous, and _hateful_ that Gavin could see exactly fucking why the other gifted had been so afraid of him.

“They don’t care about you one _fucking_ bit - so why care about them? _Why_ , Gavin? For too long! Too long you let them walk all over you! Too long you let them get in the way of your happiness! Not just you, the others - I _saw_ , when you told me about them. You _love_ them - but unless people respect you, _all_ of you, you think they will accept this? I know these human mortals well. _Fear is necessary_.”

He leaned in, his nose inches from Gavin’s. Gavin couldn’t breathe, staring at him with wide eyes. Midas’ voice was shaking with emotion, and the worst part was, he sounded like he meant every word. That he was genuinely upset on Gavin’s behalf. 

“You were so brave when you took the crown,” Midas urged. “Now _earn_ the rest of it. No half measures!”

His body felt too warm, too close to Gavin’s, and he could only glare, still angry and scared and unsure. Midas seemed frustrated; he seized Gavin by the shoulders and shook him hard.

“Do they kneel for you, as they would any other king?” he demanded. “Do they _kneel_?”

“Step back,” Gavin managed to say, softly. The Endermen had closed in behind Midas at his command, and his own hand went to the Ender pearl in his pocket, ready to teleport away. 

He saw the anger fade from Midas’ face in an instant. He looked shocked at himself and raised his hands, taking a step back instantly.

“Shit, Gavin - your side! Have I hurt you?”

Gavin ignored him, slipping out from under his arm, stepping away. He was silent the way he always went silent when he didn’t want someone to see they had hurt him, wary and creeping now. He was shaken, and his side really did ache - but he just stared at Midas coldly.

“I’m sorry,” Midas began, and glanced at the starburst of gold on the wall. “I lost myself. I have a… an uncertain temper.”

When Gavin didn’t answer, he looked stricken - but had enough sense not to step forward again.

“Gavin, I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” And then, firmly, “It will not happen again.”

Gavin just eyed him warily. He’d almost been starting to trust the other man, but now he wasn’t so sure. He was clearly violent and impulsive, and he remembered uncomfortably Midas’ talk of ‘ _accidents_.’

_Could’ve bloody accidented me just then, couldn’t you?_

Midas bit his lip, seeming to realise just how royally he’d fucked up.

“Go,” he said then. “Go back to the others. Go to the meeting. See what happens. You will see, then - you will come back to me.”

He seemed very sure of that. What Gavin was sure as fuck about was that he was getting out of here and back to the others! He turned and headed for the portal, when Midas called out behind him.

“Wild king! Wait a moment. I have something for you - something I picked up from the Nether.”

Gavin turned back towards him and raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not a statue of Ryan’s mum, is it?” he asked, and Midas laughed, seeming relieved he was still joking with him.

“No,” he replied. “One moment.”

He hurried through the back door of the castle, and Gavin waited. He was more confused than ever, and rather worried - but before long Midas hurried back out, and Gavin’s eyes widened.

_Michael’s sword!  
  
_ “The Overlord dropped it during his fight,” Midas said, and turned it over in his hands with an admiring smile. “It’s beautiful - what incredible craftsmanship! When you mentioned how you killed the beast with it, I realised what it was. Here - return it to the Alpine king. A gesture of my good will.”

_Michael’s gonna be so happy,_ Gavin thought, but didn’t let it show on his face. Gods, Michael - he wanted him here, now. _Soon. You’re about to go back._

He took the sword and managed a nod. Midas looked pained that he was still angry, but didn’t argue.

“I’ll be waiting here,” he offered. He seemed very sure that Gavin would come back. Gavin just nodded again, and turned away. He couldn’t help but walk quickly, eager to return to the others, to hear their thoughts on all this - he hurried back to the portal and jumped through without looking back.

 

* * *

 

Geoff sat up in one of the spires of the Wild castle, staring out over the forest. For all its darkness, the Wild was beautiful in the dawn - under the light of a red sun slowly rising over the distant horizon of the Stoneworld, the jagged shapes of the trees had a feral loveliness to them.

He sighed, and lifted his bottle to his lips to drink again. He hadn’t been able to sleep last night. It had been nice, to be finally curled up by Jack’s side again - but when he closed his eyes, the nightmares came. The Nether - the Overlord.

“What are you doing up here?”

Geoff spun around. Ryan had come up the stairs and was standing behind him, and Geoff did a double take.

“You look different,” he commented.

Ryan raised an eyebrow. He’d shaved, and his hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. He wore leather armour over his fine purple tunic, and with his cloak over his shoulders held in place by two silver pins shaped like horned bulls, he looked like he was ready to declare war on the next person who looked at him the wrong way.

He didn’t look like the eccentric scientist who’d come to save Geoff in the Nether. Without his beard, without that looseness to him - he looked more like the king that Geoff had first encountered in the Stoneworld during the games. Worse, if possible - even more severe.

“They’re expecting a king,” Ryan replied, and walked forward to sit beside Geoff in the window. “I’m giving them one.”

Geoff hummed. He felt a little disappointed, but it made sense. It was just - he liked Ryan _more_ the other way.

_Don’t be stupid. Today isn’t about you. It isn’t about being together. It’s about getting Ryan’s fucking crown back_.

Ryan leaned forward to look over Geoff’s shoulder out at the view. Then he turned and looked around the bare interior of the tower; a round stone room, moss creeping along some of the walls.

“This is where Gavin and I were,” he said abruptly, “When we felt you die.”

Geoff jolted. The place seemed to have a sudden, menacing quality with that new information - he didn’t remember much about the hazy last day of his life. Nothing but pain and fever and the occasional flash of the others by his side.

“He wasn’t with me when I passed,” he murmured, and Ryan shook his head.

“He couldn’t stand it. I came to get him when we knew there wasn’t long left, but I couldn’t convince him to come in time. He was upset. His powers went out of control - all the creepers exploded. No one was hurt, luckily.”

Geoff bit his lip. The thought of the others’ grief at his death had been on his mind the entire time he was in the Nether. How devastated Jack and Gavin must’ve been. How _broken_. It hurt to think about, even now that he was back.

“Why did you come up here?” he asked, quietly.

A darkness passed across Ryan’s face, and he looked away.

“To remind myself of what we have to lose if we fail,” he muttered.

Geoff stared at him, horrified.

“Well that’s fucking morbid!” he cried, and Ryan barked out a laugh.

“We won’t fail,” he said, firmly. “I won’t let us.”

There was something too intense in the way he said it - the look on his face - and coupled with his new fashion choices, Geoff was starting to feel rather uneasy. He looked away and took another swig from the bottle.

“How are you feeling?” Ryan asked, voice gentler now.

“Not that good, after the Nether,” Geoff admitted. He laughed, but it was humourless, and he scrubbed his hands over his face. “Still can’t sleep very well. But I’ll get better here, with the rest of you. Gotta keep my chin up and all that. I’m glad you’re here,” he added, and let himself shift over in the windowsill so his arm was pressed to Ryan’s. The other man didn’t seem to mind, and Geoff smiled a little, relishing the warmth of another body by his side. “It’s good not to be alone.”

Ryan nodded, and Geoff felt a shy swell of love for him. He looked out at the view again.

“I used to think the Stoneworld was such a harsh, ugly kingdom,” he began. Ryan’s mouth opened indignantly, but Geoff continued before he could say anything. “But it looks nice, here - in the dawn.”

He offered Ryan the bottle, but the other man shook his head, lips twitching.

“I need a clear head for the meeting,” he said.

Geoff just shrugged and drank again, Ryan watching him in amusement.

“Bit early for that, isn’t it?”

“I’ve been deprived for six months. Let me live. I promise, my head’s as clear as fucking ever.”

Ryan raised his hands, laughing at little. They fell into another silence, but when Geoff looked back over, Ryan was staring at him, a fond look on his face. Geoff had rarely seen him with that expression, and felt suddenly thrilled to be on the receiving end of it.

“I missed you while you were away,” Ryan said, suddenly. “I never thought I would. I thought you were a fucking idiot for a long time-”

“Oh, thanks,” Geoff replied - but he couldn’t stop grinning. It was rare for Ryan to offer up something like that out of the blue.

“-But I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Geoff admitted softly. And then, “You owe me two kisses, by the way.”

His voice was calm, vaguely joking, but his heart was pounding and his stomach was tight with excitement. Part of him still had no idea what he was doing, no idea what he was getting himself into - but Ryan just laughed, a happy little sound that eased some of Geoff’s tension.

Geoff couldn’t even tell if he himself had been joking or not - when Ryan leaned in, some part of himself was shocked. Like he’d thought they’d just laugh this off, continue saving it for another time as they had been. But the next thing he knew, Ryan’s hand - surprisingly gentle - was cupping his cheek, and then the other man’s lips were on his.

If you’d told Geoff two years ago that he’d find himself sitting in Gavin’s Wild castle kissing Ryan fucking Haywood, he’d probably have laughed in your face. But here he was - clutching the bottle stupidly in one hand, the other fisted in the front of Ryan’s shirt, lips working desperately against the other man’s. He was a little surprised when Ryan let him take the lead - let him push him back against the stone window frame. The very fact that Ryan had given up his precious control - to _him!_ \- thrilled him, even if only for a moment.

There was no need to be scared, he realised, and could have laughed at his previous uneasiness. It was still Ryan, even with his hair tied up and his jaw smooth under Geoff’s fingers as he lifted a hand to tilt his head to a better angle. Still Ryan, who Geoff had come to admire so much - Ryan, who had somehow fallen for him in turn.

When they pulled apart, Ryan dropped his head to rest against Geoff’s shoulder - an oddly vulnerable moment. Geoff put his arms around him and hugged him tightly. 

“That’s one,” Ryan murmured, and Geoff chuckled. Ryan lifted his head - then suddenly focused on something over Geoff’s shoulder, out the window, and frowned.

“Dan’s running to open the gate,” he said, and Geoff turned in confusion. The angle of the tower made it hard to see what was happening down in the clearing, but when he leaned out he could just see Dan pulling the gates open.

“What’s going on?” he asked, but Ryan - able to see more from where he sat - had already shot up. He grabbed Geoff’s arm and pulled him towards the stairs.

“Come on. Gavin’s back!”

 

* * *

 

Jack was the first to go to meet Gavin, rushing out of the castle just ahead of Geoff and Ryan and grabbing for him as he swung off his giant spider.

“Gavin!” he yelled. “You’re okay? You’re back! Why so soon?”

“I got the answers I needed,” Gavin began, then broke off with a wince as Jack pulled him forward to hug him. Jack retreated immediately.

“Your side,” he began, and Gavin gave a strained smile.

“It’s fine,” he said, rubbing it. “Just made it worse with everything going on. Midas didn’t hurt me, I… I’m okay.”

He looked up as the others approached. Geoff was close, now, and he eyed Gavin with concern. Ryan was right behind him. His heart pounded - he hadn’t expected Gavin back so early. Had been anticipating him spending days if not weeks slowly getting into Midas’ graces.

Michael came too, then, emerging from another tent. He gasped as he caught sight of Gavin.

“Gav, is that-”

"Your sword,” Gavin confirmed, offering it. Geoff’s eyes widened. “Midas picked it up. Said to give it back to you.”  
  
Michael’s mouth had dropped open. Gavin passed him the sword, and he took it reverently, hands moving with tender carefulness over its blade. He seemed to be checking it really was his - but the black smudges from Gavin’s fight with the beast were still there, the ridiculous weight the same.

“Had to suck down a potion of strength just to lug that thing back here,” Gavin laughed, and Michael nodded absently.

“What’s going on?” Geoff asked, and Gavin turned to him and hesitated.

“Let’s go inside and talk about it.”

There was something odd in his face - but this was a conversation they could have sitting down, Geoff thought, and he nodded as they all filed into the castle. Geoff fell back by Gavin’s side as he walked, and Gavin shifted closer to him. He looked… unsettled, Geoff thought. But blessedly unharmed.

“What happened in there?” Geoff murmured.

“Too bloody much,” Gavin replied, his voice barely a whisper. “We were mistaken, about a lot of things. _I_ was mistaken.”

Geoff mulled this over. He was feeling uneasy again - what could Gavin mean? What could Midas have been to make him say that - to make him come back so soon?”

“Is he a danger to us?” he asked.

“No.”

“ _What_?” Geoff did a double take. That, they had been sure of. That Midas was a threat - a threat to be dealt with, the next thing to unite against.

“I know,” Gavin said, and huffed out a laugh. “I’m confused, I don’t know what to do… so I said I’d come back. He told me to go to this meeting and see what happened.”

He looked up at Geoff then, something pleading and young and terribly uncertain in his eyes, and suddenly Geoff remembered that for all his running around in the Wild and building of castles and grand ideas - for all that he was strong and smart - Gavin had never been part of the court. Had never been around kings other than _them_ \- had never had to hold court or negotiate.

“Geoff,” he whispered, “I don’t know what to think.”

Geoff’s heart clenched. He put an arm around Gavin’s shoulders and gently pulled him closer.

“It’s okay,” he replied. “We’ll figure it out together.”

 

* * *

 

Michael kept turning his sword over in his hands. He couldn’t seem to stop grinning. That was nice, at least - Geoff knew it had hit him hard when he lost it. He didn’t quite seem like the Alpine king without it.

_Why would Midas return it,_ he couldn’t help wondering. _He didn’t have to. We wouldn’t even have known he had it_.

Gavin had just finished his story, recounting briefly to the others the sequence of events that had led to the beasts and the Wither emerging from the portal - and then what Midas wanted, now.

“He wants to rule alongside us,” Ryan said, in the silence after Gavin stopped speaking. Geoff’s head was spinning with all this new information. Gods - no wonder Gavin had come back to consult with them. He had no fucking idea what to think.

“Essentially,” Gavin replied. They were sitting around one of the tables in the Wild hall. Gavin rubbed at his temples and took a sip of water. He looked exhausted, Geoff thought. He probably hadn’t slept well, either.  
  
“Not rule,” Jack corrected. Geoff looked over at him and found his face uncharacteristically tight. “He doesn’t just want to _rule_. He wants to be worshipped.”

“Look, he’s… a dramatic sort of fellow,” Gavin began, and Geoff fancied there was an almost defensive note in his voice. “I don’t know if he really means it.”

“He’ll kill anyone who opposes him,” Jack pointed out. “People who say things like that usually mean them.”

Geoff reached out and put a hand on his arm. There was a quiet anger to Jack that Geoff very, very rarely saw in him - hadn’t since he was much younger, in fact, or during the games when all that tension broke out. Gavin was looking away, hadn’t seemed to notice.

“He could’ve hurt me,” he pointed out. “He didn’t.”

He rubbed his side absently, and Geoff didn’t miss it.

“Gavin,” he replied, “He considers you one of his inner circle. Sure, he wouldn’t kill you, but what about… what about Lindsay, or Mica, or _Dan_ , or any of our other friends?”

“If we told him not to, I think he wouldn’t,” Gavin argued. “I think we might be able to change him. Bringing him back might help us regain control - show people that _all_ the kings are a united front!”

“We’re already a united front!” Jack shot back. “And we’re not gonna start threatening people left, right and fucking centre to prove it!”

“Aren’t we?” Gavin cried. “What if Claudius refuses to give Ryan’s crown back? What will we do? Just say, _oi, you can’t do that! That’s mean!_ He will spit in our faces!”

There was an almost hysterical note in his voice, and Geoff saw Michael and Ryan exchange a glance.

Jack reached out across the table and took Gavin by the hand.

“That hasn’t happened yet,” he said. “If it does, we’ll deal with it. But we can’t just unleash some… some magical asshole who could turn the entire world into gold and kill any one of us in a second. Not over a _what if_.”

Gavin bit his lip, and looked away.

“I know,” he whispered. “Just… you weren’t _there_. He really seemed to want to be back here with us. He was so happy we were all united.”

Michael slipped an arm through his, jostling him gently and grinning at him.

“Gav - for what it’s worth, I don’t trust him either. He sounds like a guy with big fucking ideas. And big ideas alongside the ability to destroy anything in your path isn’t a good combination.”

"Don’t you have big ideas, Michael?” Gavin replied, and Michael snorted.

"Yeah, but I can’t kill people just by touching them!”

There was a long silence. Gavin looked a little disappointed, Geoff thought. Like they hadn’t told him what he was wanting or expecting to hear.

“What if we can’t do this without him?” he asked finally. “What if it’s the only way?”

“It’s not,” Geoff replied, fiercely. “I’m with Jack - it’s _not.”_

“It isn’t a good idea to let him out,” Ryan agreed. He’d been silent this whole time - thoughtful. Now Gavin turned to him, something desperate in his face. “I see where you’re coming from, Gavin. His story has elements that are sympathetic - he seems like he could benefit us in a number of ways, especially since he seems to _like_ us. Perhaps he’s genuine. Perhaps he’s telling the truth. But the reason he was thrown in the End in the first place is simple - his gift is just too fucking powerful. I can turn stone to redstone, but _only_ stone. You can command the mobs - but they’re bound by the limits of the physical world. But Midas can turn _anything_ to gold. We wouldn’t be able to get near him if we had to stop him for some reason. The benefits just don’t weigh up to the risks, so this isn’t a good idea.”

Gavin stared at him, looking strained. Ryan’s words were convincing - made so much sense, Michael and Jack nodding along - and he gazed at Gavin calmly until the other man finally gave a small nod, too.

“So what do we do?” Michael asked.

“We will just have to never go back there,” Ryan said. “Close the portal. Dismantle it.”

“My dad was gonna unleash him,” Gavin said, so softly Geoff barely heard him.

“You never knew your father,” Geoff had to point out. Gavin began to frown, but Geoff pressed on. “Gav - I’m glad Midas could give you the answers you needed. But Robin was a defecting soldier, a man we never met. Just because you’re related doesn’t mean he was a good person, or that we should follow his example.”

“Blood isn’t everything,” Ryan added, and Gavin looked a little chastened.

“We got what we needed from him,” Geoff continued. “We _know_ now that he can never get through without our help. As long as the portal is shut, we’re safe.”

Gavin looked down, and Michael hugged him closer again.

“Chin up, boi,” he said brightly. “We have what we need. You know about your family now - and we came to a conclusion together!”

“Did we?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, and looked around at the others. They were all nodding. “Majority rules. We’re not letting him out.”

“Ray isn’t here,” Gavin began, and Michael burst out laughing.

“You think Ray isn’t gonna vote to keep him locked up? It’s just too _dangerous_ , Gavin.”

Gavin paused - but Michael was staring at him earnestly, and he finally took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He sighed and seemed to shake himself, shrugging off whatever had been preoccupying him so much during their argument. “I guess I just… feel really bad for him. Everything he said, it - it seemed like people were just holding his past against him, refusing to respect his rule. Just like they don’t respect mine, or yours,” he added, looking over at Ryan. “Isn’t it true that sometimes, people might need a reminder?”

“A reminder isn’t the same thing as causing horror and mass fucking bloodshed!” Geoff pointed out.   
  
Gavin looked a bit upset again, and Geoff couldn’t stop noticing how tired he seemed. He rose and walked around the table to the other man’s side.

“Hey,” he said gently. “You did good. _Really_ good _-_ I doubt he’d’ve opened up so much to anyone else. I’m glad you got home safely and so quickly. Stay here with us, now. Alright?”

He reached out and cupped Gavin’s cheek, smiling at him. Gavin leaned into his touch and let Geoff pull him in for a slow, gentle kiss. Geoff clasped his face in both hands, and stared deep into his eyes when they pulled away from each other - Gavin smiled back at him, but he seemed quieter than usual, something subdued in his face.

“When’s Ray coming?” he asked.

Beside him, Michael perked up.

“Any minute now. We should go and get ready for the meeting. You coming, Gav? If your injury is too bad-”

“It’s fine,” Gavin assured them immediately. “I want to be there. I need to see what happens. I’ll bring my mobs, too.”

The morning was wearing on, and that prompted them into action. Ryan moved some distance away, looking pensive. He seemed to be gathering himself, and Gavin went to his side. Michael muttered something about going to fetch Ray from the portal and left the room.

Jack moved to Geoff’s side, pressing against him, the two of them leaning in to whisper as easily as they always did.

“I don’t like this,” Jack murmured. “Something still feels wrong about it all.”

“I think it’s good we know we can at least reason with the guy if he happens to break through somehow,” Geoff pointed out.

“I know I argued against helping him, but… he’s not our enemy _now_. Dismantling the portal might turn him against us. I don’t know - it’s a frustrating situation.”

“Dismantling it will stop him coming through,” Geoff pointed out. “We can always make up some excuse. It got destroyed in a fight, or we got scared of a beast coming through - it’ll be fine, Jack. Besides, the guy’s had thousands of years to figure out a way to come out of there. If he hasn’t found one yet, he probably never will.”

Jack didn’t look convinced, but he took Geoff’s hand and squeezed it. His eyes drifted across the room to where Gavin was watching _Ryan_ , thoughtfully.

“Gav seems off,” he murmured.

Geoff nodded.

“I agree, but Midas probably got in his head a bit. He’s exhausted, we all are. It’ll be fine, Jack. We’re all together now, aren’t we?”

Ray and Michael entered the room again then, and Geoff lit up at the sight of the Desert king. He didn’t like seeing Ray with the sling on his arm still testament to his injury - but it was nice to see him here in person. Their eyes met, and Ray gave a shy smile. Geoff smiled back.  
  
“Glad you could make it,” he said.

“Took me a while to get messages back to the Desert clarifying everything that’s going on,” Ray replied. “I’ll have to go back there soon, though. People are getting restless.”

_People are getting restless_. In light of what was going on in the Stoneworld, wasn’t that a fucking terrifying sentence?

“Gavin,” Ray added then, looking surprised to see him. “You’re back!”

“Long story,” Gavin replied, with a wry smile.

Jack had moved forward and took Ray’s arm, turning him to look him over.

“You’re not going to the meeting,” he said. “With your arm still injured you need to be away from any possible fighting, even if we’re hoping there won’t be any.”

“I can take care of myself,” Ray argued.

“No, I agree,” Ryan added, and they all turned to look at him. His face was set hard - ready to go and meet Claudius - and he met Ray’s eyes solemnly. “We don’t all need to be there. Your Desert soldiers will send enough of a message.”  
  
“I’ll stay here with you,” Jack added - he’d decided on this last night with Geoff - I’ll watch in the Sight, but I won’t show myself. They’ll think I’m in the Plains, and we’ll make it look like I’m getting our army ready to mobilise if this all goes wrong.”

Ray didn’t seem too happy with this idea, but Michael was staring at him with big, concerned eyes. They all were, and after looking around he huffed and threw his hands up.

“Fine - guess I can’t argue with you all giving me that face. I’ll be waiting here.”

Geoff was relieved. The meeting was meant to be peaceful, yes, but something about Gavin’s sudden return had unsettled him.

But the morning was wearing on, and they’d wasted too much time already. They left the room, and headed for the Stoneworld.

 

* * *

 

A large, crimson tent stood in the barren emptiness of the Stoneworld between the city and the Wild, like an angry growth sprouting from the dry face of the earth. Three guards already stood keep outside when they arrived. Claudius had beaten them here, then.

“Reminds me of the circus,” Gavin whispered to Geoff as they approached.

Geoff had to nod - the tent was enormous, like a grand Big Top. It meant they could bring their soldiers in with them. As they stepped through the flaps into the red-lit interior, his heart thrummed nervously.

Things went wrong fucking immediately, of course.

Problem number one was the rather glaring fact that Claudius _wasn’t fucking there_.

Several dozen soldiers stood at the back of the tent, faces sullen, hands hanging at their weapons. It only took a glance to work out that this wasn’t Mica’s disciplined Guard, but part of the army of mercenaries the coup had scrounged up in secret over the last several months.

Standing in front of them, alone in the main space of the tent, was a woman. Middle-aged, thin, with hard eyes, she was dressed simply - didn’t look like one of the new Council.

_A messenger,_ Geoff realised. _Just a single messenger._

He glanced at the others. Ryan’s face was blank and very cold - Michael seemed confused, then slowly lit up with a dawning anger - Gavin wore that particular tight sneer that Geoff knew meant he was nervous and trying to hide it.

“These are not the terms of our agreement,” Ryan called out. He walked forward until he was a few feet away from the woman, and paused, one hand resting easily on the hilt of his sword. “Where is Claudius?”  
  
“He isn’t coming,” she replied, calmly. Her eyes swept over the rest of the Kings as they moved up behind Ryan, but showed no fear. Geoff could see it in her face, suddenly - a lurking contempt. This was no poor civilian sent to confront the kings alone. This was clearly a _supporter_ of whatever poisonous ideas Claudius had begun to spread throughout the Capital.

“We agreed that I would negotiate with him and his counsellors.”  
  
“There isn’t going to _be_ any negotiation.”

“If you continue on this path there sure fucking won’t be,” Michael snarled, stepping forward with his own weapon drawn. The mercenaries stirred warningly, and Geoff put a hand on Michael’s arm and drew him back.

Michael glanced at him, eyes wide and angry, and Geoff felt quite sorry for him, in a brief flash. Poor trusting Michael, who gave even his enemies the benefit of the doubt at first - who believed agreements were to be stuck to, who still didn’t quite understand treachery.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” Geoff asked. His voice came out low and dangerous, and the messenger looked over at him. For a moment, something deeply unsettled flickered in her eyes.

_That’s right, bitch. Meant to be dead, aren’t I? Bet you didn’t think you’d see me again so soon._

“Whatever deal you’re hoping to make,” she said, slowly, “It won’t work. The city, the throne - they’re no longer yours.”

“I have the gift,” Ryan snapped. “The Stoneworld is mine to rule.”

“You have the gift, but not the crown,” she countered, and scoffed at all four of them again. “Your alliance, your _armies_ , none of it matters. Claudius’ council is in charge now, and nothing you do can stop it. He has sent me to tell you that he is not backing down. He won’t be lured into a trap here for you to kill him.”

“That wasn’t our intention,” Ryan replied, “But I’m starting to reconsider. You think I’m going to give up so easily?”

“I think you don’t understand your _position_ here, _Haywood_.”

The insolence in her voice as she stepped forward and lifted her chin, glaring up at Ryan, made Geoff’s blood boil. He’d hardly expected this to go easily, but some part of him was still shocked that Claudius hadn’t even bothered showing up. That he apparently wasn’t cowed by the combined might of the kings at all. _Then again, he didn’t come to see us. Maybe he’s more scared than we think? But then why not try to reason with us?_

Ryan stared down at her, and she tilted her head.

“Do you realise what people think of you, here? Of _all_ of you? They’re tired, Haywood. Tired of you acting like you know so much better than the council - it’s there for a damn reason - tired of you putting the other kingdoms before your own. Tired of you running off into the Wild, or to other fucking worlds, of helping out lands that have historically been our enemies for no other reason than that you apparently want to fuck their leaders!”

“Watch your damned tongue,” Ryan snapped, and she laughed at him, a harsh, barking sound.

“I speak only the truth. This trip to the Nether was the last straw. You bring that _creature_ into our kingdom,” she glanced at Gavin, poisonously, and Geoff had to grab Michael’s arm when he growled and reached for his sword again, “You spend all your time building useless portals to another world, and now you defy death for the Plains king? What are we to think? Not to mention that since you can apparently return from the dead, now, we must presume that you mean to use this to impose your rule on the kingdoms forever.”

“I never said that. You haven’t given me a chance to explain to the people how all this has _benefited_ us-”

“You had your chance,” she cut in, and Ryan looked furious at the interruption. “You had it, and you wasted it. Once you had promise - your golems brought us protection, and you very nearly won the games - but since then, you’ve been distracted. You’ve lost your mind, and your motivation. Maybe you spent too long in the Wild. Maybe you let your soft heart guide you instead of your head. But the Stoneworld needs a strong leader, especially in these dangerous times. And you have not proven yourself strong, lately.”

There was a moment of cold silence. Geoff knew Jack must be watching this in horror - if only Claudius himself was here instead of sending a mere proxy, someone who could easily twist Ryan’s words when she returned back home. He didn’t know what to do.

“You’re fucking stupid if you can’t see King Ryan is the best thing that ever happened to the Stoneworld,” Geoff spat, finally. “For the first time in decades you’re safe from the Wild. When was the last time someone was killed by a mob? There are threats to your kingdom, yes, but they come from other worlds. Who else but Ryan could discover exactly what those threats entail let alone help to defeat them? We are _all_ against more than we can handle alone. Together we are strong. Every other kingdom can see that. The Stoneworld needs to, as well. Ryan does - but your new council doesn’t.”

"The council will analyse these threats and come to their own conclusions,” she replied coldly. “We will not need anyone else’s _help_ to do it. The last thing we need is a king distracted by his loins at every turn.”

Michael growled again, but Ryan spoke before he could. His voice was tight and very cold.

“And what, exactly, does Claudius propose?”

“That you forfeit your right to rule. Sign documents declaring him the new king of the Stoneworld. Pledge your allegiance to him - and continue to use your gift to help us build and create. You are talented with redstone. No one would deny that. You do not need to die to be of use to the kingdom. Chief engineer is a worthy role - after all, it was your father’s, wasn’t it?”  
  
Ryan’s face darkened. Geoff was bristling - he _knew_ that was a lie, that Claudius would never be satisfied not having the gift, that they’d be trying to kill Ryan the first chance they got.

“That isn’t going to happen,” Ryan replied finally, slowly. “You don’t seem to be registering that I am not the only person you are up against, here. The Wild king, and all his mobs - the Plains army - the Alpine and Desert kingdoms - they all stand behind me. Claudius is waging a war against the entire rest of the land. He cannot possibly hope to win. I’m giving him one chance to stand down, here. He will not be harmed, just stripped of his title and banished. He can take his wealth and build a peaceful life for himself elsewhere in the kingdoms. That is the best way it can end for him. Otherwise-”

“Otherwise, what?” the messenger asked. She was so calm that Geoff could tell every possibility had been discussed before here; Claudius’ ultimatum would stand. “You would lay siege to your own city? Come on. No more of this alliance. No more of this foolishness. This - whatever it is you have going on between all of you. If you start a war, here, do you really think the people will thank you? If you decide it’s worth the sacrifice, if the deaths begin to pile up? Perhaps you would win, but public opinion of you would plummet even further. Don’t risk your people any more, Ryan. You owe them more than that.”

At that, Gavin stirred. He had been standing very still, listening in silence. The messenger had barely acknowledged him, her eyes darting between the other three. Now, Gavin stepped forward.

“Surely Claudius is doing the same by refusing to give in? Risking the entire city just to make himself leader? Somehow I doubt he’s popular with the majority.”

The messenger ignored him, her gaze still fixed on Ryan, not so much as acknowledging he had spoken.

“The Wild king asked you a question,” Ryan said, slowly.

“He is nobody’s king,” she replied. “You think you can get the entire Stone kingdom to kneel before a witch? What are you planning, Haywood? To _marry_ him? You think you can make things _right_ , here - make them _work_? You’re deluding himself. Most of the land pities you.”

Ryan’s jaw clenched. But Gavin had jolted at her words, and now he stepped even closer.

“Claudius is not just against an army of men,” he said, and his voice was so startlingly soft that the messenger looked taken aback. “Does he really think he can win against our gifts? He hasn’t seen the things we can do. When it comes down to it, we are… more.”

Her eyes finally turned to his and for a moment they stared at one another - something surprisingly calm in Gavin’s face, but a slowly rising hatred in hers.

“You will never be more,” she replied finally, voice a low hiss. “You think Claudius hasn’t already looked up who the man is who managed to seduce our king? We all know _exactly_ who you are, Gavin. A thief who grew up on the streets and in the circus, doing tricks for scraps just like a fucking _dog_. Isn’t that still what you do to get what you want, from _all_ of them? Nothing but _tricks_. There is nothing noble in your blood, nothing to make you royal. You are merely the kings’ bitch, and soon all the lands will know it.”

Geoff heard himself gasp - he couldn’t control it, the sheer fury that washed over him making him suck in a breath. He’d expected Gavin to flinch, but to his surprise, he just continued to stare calmly at the woman before finally turning away.

But Michael - Michael was not so calm. His face had turned bright red, and he wrenched his arm free from Geoff’s and strode towards the woman, glowering down at her. With his chest heaving, it looked like the bear atop his shoulders was ready to leap in for the kill.

“Speak to him like that again, I fucking dare you - I’ll rip your tongue from your throat and shove it up your fucking ass-”

“You are a child, King Michael,” she cut in, and Michael’s mouth snapped shut. “Perhaps we’d listen to your father’s threats, but you’ve fallen short of his glory. Immature - idiotic - that’s all you’ve proven yourself to be since you’ve taken the crown. _All_ of you,” she added, looking between them, “Since you inherited, have done nothing but fail again and again. We need a strong ruler, worthy to lead. Claudius will not back down. You have until dawn to surrender, Ryan, or we’ll begin to execute those we’ve arrested for supporting you. This time,” she added menacingly, “Don’t make the wrong choice.”

Geoff had no idea what to say. He felt useless standing there, but honestly, he was so shocked by what was going on that he hadn’t a clue what to do. He felt rusty - after six months in the Nether he hadn’t had to deal with situations like this, and for a second he didn’t feel like a king at all. Just a dead man walking again, out of his fucking depth.

Gavin stood back too, oddly silent. But Ryan…

Ryan’s face had gone frighteningly blank. Slowly, his head turned. He looked over at Michael, who stood trembling with fury, and their eyes met. Geoff felt something stir in the bond between them - their anger stretching out in tendrils, reaching for one another, twining together into some unspoken decision that he witnessed from the fringes. 

He saw Michael nod, minutely. That was all the warning anyone got.

In a second, Ryan had drawn his sword. The messenger had begun to turn to leave, but at the flash of metal in her peripheral, she turned again. In one swift, abrupt motion, Ryan’s blade flashed out and slit her throat.

“Ryan!” Gavin yelled - he’d jumped violently, clearly as stunned as Geoff was.

The messenger crumpled to the ground, hands clapped to her throat, choking and gargling on blood. Ryan stared impassively down at her. The sheer blankness on his face sent a chill down Geoff’s spine. He could only stand, frozen - _afraid_ of _Ryan_ , for the first time in his life.

“Let this be a message to Claudius,” he said - he was addressing the mercenaries, who had all started forward in shock, drawing their own swords. “That I do not agree to his terms. It is he who has until dawn tomorrow to surrender. Otherwise, we march on the city.”

“He’s gone mad!” one of the mercenaries cried, only to break off as Michael lunged forward with a roar. His diamond blade glinted under the redstone light in the tent as he ran at the men, who rushed to defend themselves.

Geoff had never seen Michael properly in action before, except against the Wither. He stood frozen, eyes huge, watching the slaughter. Michael’s blade moved in sweeping, furious arcs, each with enough force to cleave a man’s limbs from his body. The mercenaries closed in behind him, but he ducked and dodged each one, seizing any who got too close and throwing them away from him with great roars. Blood splattered onto the walls of the tent, staining crimson fabric even darker, and Michael worked his way through the hoard of men like a knife plowing through butter; far too easily.

The soldiers they’d brought with them had moved forward to help, only to falter as they realised a horrifying truth - _they weren’t needed_. Michael was single handedly taking out two dozen men on his own and not one of them could get near him. The flashing arcs of his sword cut down anything that approached.

The guards who’d been standing watch outside ran into the tent and towards Ryan, the closest. He dropped into his own fighting stance. With the same lion-like grace that Geoff had witnessed during the games, he parried each blow that came towards him and stabbed one man through the gut - brought his sword swinging back to cut another across the face before plunging his sword through his chest. He brought two more men to the ground before swinging his sword to point at the third - who dropped his sword, hands rising automatically, his face pale as the dead.

“I-”

“Surrender?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. His voice was dark and dripping with contempt. “A wise decision.”

The last man Michael was fighting fell, and the Alpine king turned back towards them. His face and cloak were dripping with blood, and his eyes burned like twin rubies. It had only taken a matter of minutes for all the soldiers to die, and something sick curled in Geoff’s gut.

_Confusion. Fear. Horror._ Jack’s emotions flashed across the bond, and Geoff realised he must’ve witnessed everything that just happened. His own panicked uncertainty flashed back towards the other man.

_Ryan… Michael… what the fuck have you done?  
  
_ Gavin’s eyes were as round as saucers. He’d watched, frozen, one hand clutching his side as the carnage unfolded. Now he turned to the side and threw up - a funnily _neat_ motion; a single retch tidily aimed towards the side of the tent. He straightened up and stared at the two of them in silence. When Ryan stepped towards him, he looked uncertain, but didn’t flinch.

“Gav,” Ryan said quietly - somehow the nickname made something in Geoff unravel a little. _It’s still him. Still Ryan in there._

_But gods, what_ was _that?  
  
_ “Ryan, you-”

Gavin broke off as Ryan’s hand curled around his wrist. He tugged him forward and leaned in close, whispering something in his ear that Geoff couldn’t catch. He saw Gavin hesitate, then nod.

Something broke in him then; he managed to jerk himself free of his paralysis and step towards the other.

“What the _fuck_ , guys,” he began. “You… you just-”

Ryan turned to him. For a moment, having that intense gaze focused on him made Geoff stop in his tracks, heart slamming. But Ryan noticed the look in his eyes, and his face softened.

“They would not see reason,” he said, quietly. “Trust me, Geoff, I know what I’m doing.”

“This isn’t what we discussed,” Geoff managed, numbly. The sight of so much blood made him feel sick. Oh, they hadn’t been _good_ people - but just as Michael had believed, this was meant to be purely a meeting. The soldiers were only there to protect them if someone suddenly turned on someone else.

Geoff just hadn’t expected Ryan and Michael to be the ones doing the turning.

Jack sent a wave of _disappointment_ through the bond. Ryan flinched - then his face hardened. He turned back to Gavin, taking him by the shoulders, pulling him close - cradling him for a moment, their foreheads pressed together while Geoff watched, astounded.

“Wild king,” he murmured, “Nothing she said is true. When the time is right, the kingdom will kneel for you, too.”

“When the time’s right,” Gavin whispered back, and Ryan pulled back from him and stared into his eyes for a moment before turning to Michael.

Geoff had been so distracted that he hadn’t realised the Alpine king was standing over the body of the fallen messenger. Now he straightened up with a grunt, and turned to them - and Geoff let out a high pitched shriek and leaped back as he raised her dripping, severed head.

“Fucking _gods_ , holy fucking _shit_ , Michael-”

“I’ll be sick again,” Gavin said softly, but Ryan was already striding forward and taking the head. He turned to the horrified soldier and thrust it into his arms.

“Claudius wants to see how strong I am?” he growled, and grabbed the man by the front of the shirt, dragging him towards the tent’s flaps. “Bring him this gift from me. That should show him that I mean what I fucking say. He has a day to think about it. Then I’m coming for my crown.”  
  
He dragged the man outside and Geoff followed, horrified - feeling he should step in somehow, but unsure what to do. Ryan was so _angry_ that Geoff didn’t think he could stop him if he tried.

“I-” the soldier began, but Ryan shoved him forward.

“I suggest you start running,” he said.

The soldier looked confused - then he turned and gasped. Gavin’s mobs, which had been surrounding the tent, were advancing forward. There were about fifty of them, an assortment of monsters, and they began to advance upon him now - the draugr raising their swords, the creepers hissing, the zombies’ jaws working idly, eager to taste blood. They began to rush forward and the soldier screamed and clutched the head tightly before beginning to sprint back towards the city, the hoard rushing after him.

Geoff turned to find Gavin staring after the man. His eyes burned bright green as he used his magic, and his lips were pressed into a tight line, fists clenched and trembling by his sides. 

“Gavin,” Geoff began, and Gavin shook himself. His eyes dimmed, and he turned towards Geoff.

“They won’t attack the city. Not yet. But they’ll get close enough for Claudius’ army to see.”

Geoff bit his lip. This was not the impression he’d wanted to send - this was not the way he’d hoped things would turn out. One survivor holding a severed head and being chased by the mobs did not speak very well for the alliance.

But here, in the middle of the Stoneworld, in a tent stinking of blood - he couldn’t find the words, here.

_Jack and Ray. Gods, please know what to say._

Ryan turned towards him, and Geoff grabbed his arm roughly and pulled him close.

“We go back. Now,” he said, and for the first time that afternoon it sounded like the order of a king again. “We need to fucking talk about this.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin felt like he’d fallen into a strange, almost vacant daze as he re-entered the Wild with the others. Everyone turned to watch the kings as they passed by - some stiffening and gasping at the blood that covered Michael and Ryan. He felt their gazes sweep over him, too, and had no idea what they might see in his face, keeping his eyes lowered, the vague tread of one foot after another the only thing really registering.

He’d seen Geoff negotiate with enemy barons before. With the leaders of pirate crews, with merchants from the Stoneworld, even with the Alpine king before. Even if it was someone with whom there was a mutual dislike - there was still always politeness. Respect. An acknowledgement of one another’s power.

Back in that tent, there’d been nothing but contempt. And not just for him, though he’d gotten the worst of the insults.

_All_ of them. Geoff, the oldest. Ryan. Michael.

And what Ryan and Michael had done… he hadn’t liked the blood and violence. But despite himself, he’d still felt a small, pleased thrill at how they’d rushed to defend him. No one had ever done that when he was growing up, not until he met Geoff and Jack.

He could tell how angry Geoff was. It made sense - he was upset that they’d had to resort to that.

But Gavin… Gavin didn’t know what _he_ thought.

_That’s a lie, you do know._

_Who do you owe?_

_Not them. Not those people. They never did a thing for you. The only ones who were ever kind to you are these men who stand beside you. These men who have just been so disrespected_.

They entered the Wild castle in silence. Ray and Jack sat at the table, waiting for them. Ray’s head was buried in his good hand, and as they drew near Gavin could feel his anger, upset, confusion, pulsing through the bond in waves. He looked up as they approached, and froze - one trembling hand rising to his mouth in horror.

Michael looked awful. His bearskin cloak was all covered in blood, like the creature had gored something to death - but the snarling grin on his face clearly indicated that it was someone else’s.

“Oh gods, Michael,” Ray whispered. “What have you done?”

Michael lifted his chin. If he was taken aback by Ray’s reaction, he didn’t let it show.

“I have sent a message,” he declared. “ _We_ have sent a message. That you don’t fucking disrespect the leaders of the land and get away with it. That you don’t disrespect _him_ and get away with it.”

He gestured at Gavin, and Ray faltered, looking over at him. Their eyes met, and something about the look on his face _hurt_ \- an embarrassing _pity_ that made Gavin’s skin crawl with shame. But he could see the situation stirred something in Ray, too, something angry, something that at its core _wanted_ the people of the land to look at them with approval. All of them.

_Together._

_Us._

_That’s what matters, and-_

“If we’re together,” the words slipped out of Gavin’s mouth aloud, barely by his own volition, “If people _let_ us… it could be so good. So good for everybody, in all the kingdoms - why can’t they _see_ that?”

“Because they don’t care about the people or the kingdoms,” Ryan spoke up, voice dark and matter of fact. “They want power for themselves. They want to maintain hostilities for their own benefit. We can’t let them - and I’ll show no mercy getting there.”

“So this is the impression you want to give,” Geoff said, flatly. “That the alliance will crush anyone who opposes it. That we’ll turn on people and kill them.”

Ryan turned to him. Between the meeting and returning to the Wild, he’d settled into something very calm.

“You’re angry with me,” he observed. “Didn’t you hear what she said about Gavin?”

Gavin glanced down. Geoff stared back at Ryan for a moment, then sighed and ran his hands over his face. He still looked annoyed, but beyond that he just looked anxious and tired.

“I’m angry with - look, I’m angry with Claudius for pushing this, but you shouldn’t have fucking done that.”

“My father would have done that!” Michael said, proudly.

“You’re not your fucking _father_ , Michael,” Geoff snapped, and looked at Ryan. “And you’re not your mother, and we’re all _more_ than that, okay?”

“Yes,” Gavin whispered to himself, so softly that no one else could really hear him. “We’re more.”

Ryan looked upset at that, and Jack put a hand on Geoff’s arm, stepping forward.

“I know you two got angry and protective,” he said gently. “I could feel it. I was angry, too. But you have to admit that you went about that completely the wrong way. We’re gonna have a hell of a time convincing people that we want _peace_ if you just slaughtered a room full of-”

“Mercenaries,” Michael cut in. He threw his hands up dismissively, flinging himself down onto the seat opposite Ray. “Mercenaries, vagabonds, Claudius’ lackeys - they knew what they were getting into!”

Jack look pained. Ray was staring across the table at him, and in the long, awkward silence that followed, Michael noticed. He turned to look at his husband, and raised his eyebrows at the look on Ray’s face.

“What, Ray?” he demanded. “You’re pissed at me for sticking up for us?”

“You shouldn’t have killed them,” Ray said, flatly.

Michael stared at him, then scowled.

“This is how armies _work_ , Ray,” he said, slowly, as though talking to a child. “ _They_ have a certain number of men. _We_ have a certain number of men. If we get rid of some of theirs, their forces become _smaller_. That means there are less people to potentially kill us later on!”

“I know,” Ray snapped. “I’m not an idiot.”

“Neither am I,” Michael replied, and there was something tight and genuinely annoyed in his voice now as he looked around at the rest of them. “I’m not an idiot. I’m not a child. And I’m not just some… some half-witted speck in my father’s _glorious fucking shadow_. I deserve respect, and so does Ryan, and so does Gav. _They knew what they were getting into_.”

Geoff, Jack and Ray continued to stare at him. Gavin knew those sorts of stares, remembered feeling them when he first walked back into the Stoneworld after the games, when they were reunited after eight long months of tension.

“What,” Michael demanded. “You think we did something _bad_?”

“I think you did something stupid,” Ray said, quietly, and Michael’s eyes widened. Hurt, then anger, burned brightly in his eyes.

“You weren’t there,” he spat.

Gavin watched, silently. His heart ached. His side ached. This was pulling them apart, he could see it. He felt like he was watching through a window - like he was standing at the side of the stage, a tragedy unfolding in front of him. Everyone acting their inevitable parts before some judgmental crowd.

There was a long pause, then Jack spoke up again. His voice was calm, but had a faint tremor that gave away just how much control it was taking to keep it that way.

“We need to talk to the people. Tell them our side of the story - because they’re definitely gonna spread theirs. They’ll say you’ve gone mad, that you’re killing people with the help of the Alps. How’s that going to look? Michael slaughtering men from your kingdom?”

Ryan stared at him with a sort of longsuffering patience.

“Jack,” he said. “Although I do love you, and I know that this is how you like to do things - this is not the Plains. These people are my mother’s men. They will not be reasoned with. There will be no peace unless we act swiftly and decisively. I grew up here - you didn’t. I know how they work, I know what people such as them are like.”

Jack stared at him, and Ryan stepped forward.

“I’m taking back my kingdom,” he said firmly. “And I appreciate the support. Let them know Michael is on my side! Let them know we’re together! Why not? It’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

His face was open, honest - raw in a way it usually wasn’t. _I love you_ , Gavin realised - it had come out so easily, and he could see how torn Jack looked as he stared at Ryan.

“And just so you know,” Ryan added, fiercely, “Anyone who… who implies something like that about Gavin again will choke on their own blood just like that messenger did.”

“I’m not defending them,” Geoff said. “In any other situation, I’d punish them without a thought. But you are a king, and I know you realise that that was a peaceful meeting. That promises to just meet and talk must be kept for us to maintain our honour and reputation.”

Ryan stared at him for a long moment.

“You more than anyone should understand that honour and reputation can be used against us. That we must prove our strength,” he said. “That’s what you did against Nutt. That’s what I did today. What I will continue to do.”

Geoff pressed his lips together, clearly unhappy with his answer. If Ryan cared, he didn’t comment.

“Stand with me if you will,” he said, looking at each of them for a moment. “Otherwise I’ll see you once I have my crown back.”

He turned to leave, and they all sat up a bit, shocked.

“What - don’t _leave_ ,” Jack cried, “We’re not done talking!”

“I need to make plans to get my golems back,” Ryan replied, glancing back over his shoulder. “And I think you’ll all have more than enough to deal with in your own kingdoms. Maybe Claudius will surrender at dawn. Maybe he won’t. In the case of the latter, I need to send messages to those loyal to me in the army, to await my arrival.”

He swept out of the room. The rest of them stared after him. Even Gavin was a bit surprised by his sudden dismissal of them - but he couldn’t bring himself to blame Ryan. After all, he was under a lot of stress, and the others having a go at him for the way he’d handled things had to only add to the weight on his shoulders.

Michael began to rise, too. He looked at Ray again, and when the other man still seemed less than impressed with him, his face clouded over.

“This is how my kingdom does things,” he said.

“Our kingdom,” Ray corrected, quietly.

“Yeah Ray,” Michael spat, “I’m trying to fucking keep it that way.”

He marched for the door, and Gavin, lurking next to it, reached out instinctively to snag his arm. Michael stopped, and for a moment they stared at each other - faces close - he could see how angry Michael was, and beneath the anger, worried. After a moment, Michael shook him off and walked out, but Gavin knew he wasn’t the other man’s target. They’d have time to talk later.

There was a long, sullen pause. Jack and Geoff were still staring after Ryan, looking rather shellshocked. After a moment Ray rose. Gavin thought he’d leave, too - but to his surprise, the other man approached him. He reached out and cupped Gavin’s face gently, checking him over. Gavin leaned into his touch, and Ray let his hand fall to his shoulder.

“What do you think of all this?” he asked, softly.

Gavin realised he’d barely spoken during the meeting. He still felt a little dazed, like he was watching inevitable events unfold rather than taking an active role in them.

“I have no people to protect,” he replied. “My home is here in the Wild. My family are you and my friends. I protect my home and my family. That’s all.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Gavin hesitated. He looked over Ray’s shoulder - Jack and Geoff had turned to watch him too, now, intently waiting for his answer.

“I know you’re cross,” he managed finally, “But they did it for me. Spend a day in the Stoneworld and you’ll hear what people say about me. I know none of it’s true, but… it starts with words. Words turn into actions, turn into coups, turn into threats against Ryan’s life. Against all of us.”

Ray’s brows furrowed, and Gavin bit his lip. He didn’t want them to be annoyed with him as well - didn’t know what he thought.

“Maybe Ryan’s right,” he began, but tentatively. “A hard stance is necessary… I don’t know. I don’t _know_ , Ray. I-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ray said. Gavin’s voice had been rising, upset and nearly hysterical, and Ray ran his hand soothingly over Gavin’s arm now. “It must’ve been hard to be there. Not to mention you’re already injured.”

“She threatened to kill more people.”

“It was a peaceful meeting,” Jack spoke up. “You don’t turn on someone during a peaceful meeting.”

Gavin bit his lip, not sure what else to say. Another silence fell, then Ray let out a heavy sigh.

“I need to go and send a message back to the Desert kingdom,” he said tiredly. “Consult with them, see what they think we should do moving forward.”

“We need to talk to the Plains,” Geoff agreed. “Tell them about the portals. See what they think.”

“It’ll be a long meeting,” Jack said, and Geoff nodded.

“Luckily we can both hold the Sight for a long time. Come on.”

They all trooped out of the room. Gavin was left standing there, watching them. He was left in empty silence.

_What do I do?  
  
_ He had no one to consult - just his own little band who looked to him for guidance. He thought of the portal to the End, sitting out there in the jungle. Midas, on the other side, waiting.

Not to mention the tension between all of them. There was that, too - and he didn’t like it, he realised uneasily. He didn’t like how this was pulling them all apart so soon after they’d found each other. 

_Geoff was meant to come back and we’d all be together. We’d finally be able to build a new world. These stupid people are the only thing standing in the way._

 

* * *

 

The afternoon wore on. It felt long and too-heavy, everyone unsure what would happen after the meeting had gone so badly. The guards were on high alert, waiting for an attack, Gavin’s mobs lurking throughout the jungle ready to bring any abnormality to his attention immediately.

Evening was beginning to fall when Gavin emerged from a meeting with his own group to find Michael entering the castle grounds again. He’d gone back through the portal to the Alps and had been there most of the day, but it seemed he’d returned now. As Gavin watched, he went and sat on a nearby tree stump, and bent his head pensively over his sword - turning it over and over, watching the reflection of the orange clouds ripple across the shining blade.

Gavin walked over and sat beside him. After a moment, Michael shifted his leg so their knees were touching.

“My father spilled blood with this sword,” he murmured. “And my grandmother. All my ancestors.”

“What she said about you wasn’t true,” Gavin whispered, and Michael looked up at him. He still seemed angry, his eyes burning - but determined now, rather than worried. Gavin knew that the Alpine council would have been happy with his decision. Were probably hoping that Claudius wouldn’t surrender so they’d have some noble reason to fight the Stoneworld.

“And what she said about you was even less true,” Michael replied, and Gavin looked down. He could feel Michael’s eyes on him, and after a moment Michael put a warm hand on his knee and squeezed.

“Your father - he was a soldier,” Michael said. “A warrior. He defected because he hated the Stoneworld. He had conviction. That’s noble - whatever else he did.”

“He’s still a stranger,” Gavin muttered. “I’ll never know him.”

Michael sighed. He was quiet for a long moment.

“It’s funny how,” he said finally, almost hesitantly, “If our parents are good, if we approve of them - that’s always who we try to imitate. I knew Ray’s mother pretty well, you know. He’s a lot more like her than he thinks sometimes. Both his parents, they liked doing things by the book. That’s why he doesn’t _see_ how, back there, we needed to break the rules.”

“You haven’t failed your parents,” Gavin told him.

“I won’t,” Michael said, fiercely. “And I won’t fail you.”

Gavin smiled a little. He turned and kissed Michael - slowly, sweetly, relishing the other man’s gentle hands on his knees and the warmth of his lips. Reminding himself what he was doing this for - what they were _all_ doing this for.

It was growing dark around them. As they pulled apart, Gavin saw Ryan walking from the castle. The day had been tense and quiet after the big argument this morning, no one talking much to each other. He wasn’t sure what Ryan had been up to, but now he strode towards the gate near where Michael and Gavin were sitting.

“Hey!” Geoff’s voice rang out. He was emerging from another door with Jack and Ray in tow, and froze at the sight of Ryan. All three of them looked exhausted - they must’ve just finished their meeting. “Where are you going?”

Ryan ignored him. He came up to Gavin and Michael, and paused.

“Gavin,” he said quietly. “What I’m about to do will take a lot of energy. I may need your magic. Are you feeling strong enough?”

Gavin nodded. He was curious - but again, felt almost dazed, like this too had an odd inevitability.

“And I am, too,” Michael added, and Ryan nodded. He smiled at both of them, seeming relieved, and Gavin saw how pleased Michael looked at that. They rose, and Geoff strode up too as they all headed for the gate.

“I said,” he demanded, “Where are you going?”

“To the border,” Ryan replied, not looking back at him as he headed down the trail to the edge of the Wild.

“Why?”

“I’m following some very good advice that I just remembered,” Ryan said. 

Geoff looked confused. But Ryan was power-walking so fast that they all had to scramble to keep up - he and Jack exchanged a worried glance.

“What advice?” Geoff snapped. “What do you mean?”

Ryan ignored him, and Gavin moved to Geoff’s side, taking him by the arm.

“Don’t you trust him?” he whispered. “It’s _Ryan_ , Geoff.”

“That’s exactly why I’m worried,” Geoff replied. “He’s emotional. He’s not thinking clearly. I don’t feel good about this, Gav.”

But Ryan didn’t look emotional, in Gavin’s opinion. He looked very, very calm. Then again, didn’t Ryan tend to look like stone on the outside while he was tearing apart within?

_I can fix this,_ Midas whispered in Gavin’s mind. He bit his lip, flashes of dreams coming back to him. Midas fighting the guards surrounding them - Midas pulling him from the ground - the two of them, going to find the dragon together-

He shook himself, and the thoughts faded.

Jack had gone to Ryan’s side, and Gavin could see him leaning in to try and talk to him. Ryan shrugged him off - pensive, now. Michael and Ray walked very far apart, still not looking at one another.

“Tell us what you’re doing,” Jack said.

“I’ll show you,” Ryan replied.

They had reached the border now. He stepped from the trees onto the ground of the Stoneworld.

The sun was low in the sky now, a red glow radiating around it into the darkness. In the distance, the city was a jagged, blocky silhouette against the sky.

Ryan turned to Gavin, and gave a little, encouraging smile. Obediently, Gavin moved up to his side and took one of his hands. Michael stood on Ryan’s other side, the three of them in a small, connected line - like half of the bond they had once made over Geoff’s tomb. He remembered how powerful they had all felt, then.

Gavin felt Ryan tug on the bond. They’d never really done this before, but it made sense that if they stood close, Ryan might draw on their shared magic to amplify his own gift. Ryan closed his eyes - then put one foot forward.

A creeping trail of redstone spread from under his boot, moving in a line across the dark ground towards the city. It stretched further and further until it looked thin as a piece of thread, shining in the darkness like a trail of glistening blood. The sun was sinking even further, and the red line was the only thing visible in the blackness between them and the Capital. It looked like a fault line, like a crack beneath which lava shone - or an opening to some underground hell.

The line reached the city, and dipped down into the ground. Gavin saw Ryan’s face crease with concentration. Then he heard Ray gasp, and looked back towards the city.

The lights were going out.

One at a time, the little twinkles of redstone that lit up the city were blinking off. Gavin’s breath caught. The entire city was powered by redstone - without it they’d have no lights, no warmth. The plants in the greenhouses would begin to freeze over, there would be no power for anything that needed it.

They had backups, yes - but it would take a while to get torches together, and no mining would be able to commence in the meantime. Not to mention, anything could attack in the dark.

“Ryan,” he heard Geoff breathe behind them, only for him to fall silent, apparently too stunned to form words.

Ryan opened his eyes. His face glowed red in the light of that creeping, wicked trail. Slowly it died away, leaving them standing in total darkness. Gavin could no longer even see the city in the distance. The only light came from a torch Jack had brought with him from the Wild.

Gavin didn’t know what to say. His heart was pounding - he’d never been scared of the dark, not really, but there was some deep, primal unease that came with standing out in the wilderness without any light around. He couldn’t quite believe Ryan had actually turned the power off.

Ryan turned to him and leaned in.

“Send your mobs around the city,” he said quietly. “Not to attack - just enough to frighten them. Make a bit of noise.”

_Frighten who?_ Gavin thought - but swallowed, and nodded. Okay. He trusted Ryan. He wasn’t sure about this, but - _he trusted Ryan._

He called on his gift, and sent the nearest few dozen mobs throughout the Wild towards the city. They’d stay at a distance, but the noise would carry. The shuffling of the creatures’ bodies through the trees around them made the others jump, and Ryan turned to them.

“The weather is good,” he said. “The city will be fine for one night. But let Claudius know that he is not the one holding the reins, here.”

Jack and Geoff looked pale and grim. They didn’t answer. Michael, though, was nodding - he clearly approved.

Ray looked upset. He caught Ryan’s sleeve, and the other man turned to him. The first flicker of something approaching regret crossed his face. Ray’s face was tight with disappointment.

“This is not what I meant,” he said slowly, “By _show them how they need you_.”

Ryan stared at him, but didn’t reply. He pulled his arm from Ray’s grasp, and turned away.

Jack and Geoff exchanged a glance, and Gavin knew they felt out of their depth here. Once they wouldn’t have hesitated to withdraw their support of the Stoneworld if these measures were taken - they would have tried to push Ryan into doing things their way. But it was different, now that they were together.

_Now that we’re together-_

But this was pushing them apart, and Gavin could feel it in the bond - a coldness, a hardness, as all of them withdrew from one another and closed off, retreating until they were as alone in their heads as they used to be before the games.

 

* * *

 

It was late, and the Wild seemed very quiet. Claudius would surrender by dawn - or Gavin sure hoped so. _What if he doesn’t?_ He had no idea what might happen next, not with things as tense as they were.

Everyone had eaten apart, and separated to sleep, now. No more of that comfortable closeness that’d accompanied their last days in the Alps. Michael and Ray hadn’t spoken to one another since they all returned.

Jack and Geoff were in their guest room, muttering to one another. Gavin’s heart felt heavy as he walked down the familiar halls of this castle he had built. He’d been quiet all day, barely contributing, feeling too lost to dare speak up in all the arguments.

Now, he opened the door and the two of them looked up. He’d upgraded all the rooms to have proper beds - they were sitting on it, heads bent close. Gavin slipped into the room and shut the door behind him. He toed off his boots and left them on the floor; unwound his scarf and dropped it on top of them, then his jacket.

“Gavin,” Jack said, quietly.

Gavin didn’t look up at him. His heart was pounding as he fiddled with the laces of his shirt.

“If Claudius doesn’t surrender by morning, we’re gonna need to have serious words with Ryan,” Geoff added.

“Why did you help him, Gavin?” Jack asked.

Gavin looked up. He had no answer. Both of them had dark wells under their eyes, and his heart ached. He got his shirt off and chucked it with the rest of his things before walking over to the bed and climbing into Jack’s lap. Jack’s head dipped to kiss him, but Gavin avoided it - just leaned against his broad chest and rested his face against Jack’s shoulder. Jack felt solid and warm against him. There was something so comforting about the touch of another human, and he sighed and felt some of his tension ease as Jack pulled him into a hug, one hand stroking through his hair. Geoff shifted closer and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as well.

They didn’t press him for more answers, and he was grateful.

“He’ll surrender,” Gavin murmured. It came out more certain than he intended, and he felt Jack stiffen a little under him.

“How do you know that?” he asked, and Gavin bit his lip.

“Can we please sleep?” he replied, avoiding the question. “The three of us, here - let’s have just that. Please?”

Geoff and Jack seemed to realise that today had been a long, hectic day - not only that, but it was the first night they’d had to themselves, just the three of them, since Geoff died. He saw them exchange a nod, and they shifted to lie in the bed together.

With Geoff on one side of him and Jack on another, Gavin felt his anxieties melt away a little. It reminded him of the Plains, of before all of this - but even better now that they were actually together. He curled up into a little ball, his forehead pressed against Geoff’s back, Jack’s heavy arm slung over his waist. It felt safe in the warmth of their two bodies, and he was soothed by the steady rise and fall of their chests. They must’ve been exhausted, because they drifted off soon enough, beginning to snore lightly, and Gavin let himself fall into that content daze that comes right before falling asleep, happy between them - breathing, alive, magical.

 

* * *

 

When he was sure they were asleep, Gavin rose.

It was completely dark in the Wild now, everyone sleeping except the few guards stationed around the wall. All he could hear were the occasional chitter and flapping wings of the bats outside.

Jack and Geoff slumbered peacefully beside him. They were so deeply asleep that they barely stirred as he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to each of their temple’s - even Geoff, who he knew had slept restlessly since returning from the Nether, seemed to have succumbed to bone-deep exhaustion.

He got out of the bed, and quickly dressed. His heart was pounding now, and he felt a strange sense of purpose, just as he had before he ran to the Wild for that first time. Curiously detached from his own body - like he was watching somebody else do all this.

_Haven’t we earned-_

A light was burning in another room down the hallway. Gavin crept past - through the sliver of open door he saw Michael, sprawled on his bed asleep, a torch burning beside him. Gavin slipped in and blew it out, tugging the other man’s blankets up over his body before leaving.

Ray was in the main hall, deep in thought. He was drinking, and Gavin frowned - he knew the other man rarely did - and rubbing his injured arm. He didn’t seem at all inclined to go to Michael’s room tonight, and Gavin’s heart clenched a little. They were splitting apart, and that wouldn’t do. Hadn’t all this been to unite their kingdoms - to be together - unite _our_ kingdoms-

_Haven’t we earned our-_

He left Ray as he was, and exited through the back doors of the castle. In the courtyard near where Geoff’s tomb had been, Ryan stood, fusing the portals that the others had built together. Gavin lingered in the shadows, watching him. In the night, each flash of bloody light lit up his grim face, his dark eyes. Gavin wanted to go to him, but knew he shouldn’t. Ryan had things to figure out just like he did.

Still - he let himself pause and watch, if just for a moment. The portals, the portals that would let them all _be_ together, slip so easily from one kingdom to the next. The land would be united and peaceful just as they’d dreamed of. Here Ryan was, persistently working towards it.

They just needed to take down those standing in the way.

_Haven’t we earned our freedom?_

 

* * *

 

Midas was waiting when Gavin stepped out of the portal. He was sitting by the front gates of his castle, turning his enormous gold crown over and over in his hands. It was late here in the End, too, even if time didn’t work quite the same way as it did on Earth. The sky was a rich, deep violet - purple like royal robes - a King’s colour.

Midas rose, and put his crown on when he noticed Gavin. It had looked silly before, in the treasury. Extravagant to the point of stupidity. But against the purple sky, in the shadowed night, and wearing his matching gold armour - somehow, it didn’t look quite so ridiculous. It looked like something out of the old books of myth - something that a god would wear, ancient and arcane.

Whatever Midas saw on Gavin’s face, it made him look quite serious as he moved forward. He didn’t laugh now, didn’t yell or shout or give a great big grin. Just stepped towards him, one hand rising gently, face quite serious.

“Did they kneel?” he asked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My playlist for Gavin in this story: [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/we-are-more) / [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FehA9OwZflw&list=PLPN8AulG5DybnKB26O6A-2Hj9FOq2swrE) <3


	13. Chapter 13

_“Trust me, Wild king. This is your father’s plan.”_

_“I will. I… I do.”_

 

* * *

 

The torchlight wasn’t much, but somehow his witch-eyes could see, here, in this world filled with a magic darker than that of the Wild, darker than the gifts, as they crossed the plains under a night sky filled with a thousand eyes-

 

* * *

 

“The beast believes himself a king, and so feels he deserves a crown.” 

Gavin chewed uneasily on his lip. They were heading across long, empty stretches of pale grass towards the distant mountains. The night was too silent around them, no bird calls or thrumming cicadas to be heard, and the black spires of the mountainous forest loomed before them, dark and forbidding. Gavin had never been scared of the Wild, but the End - the End was unfamiliar to him, and without the others by his side, he was nervous.

Nervous - but filled with a sense of purpose that kept him putting one foot after another. They reached the treeline, and stepped in. Gavin blended well into the shadows in his creeperskins, even when holding a flaming torch. But Midas in his shining golden armour didn’t seem to care that he glowed like a candle in the dark.

“We made plans for him to accompany me back to Earth a long time ago,” Midas continued. “But I believe as time wore on and we failed to make a successful escape, he grew… disillusioned.”

“Were you ever worried they would attack you?” Gavin asked, softly. “Clearly you don’t age in here, but-”

“But I can die, yes. I can be killed.” Midas’ voice solemn. “I spent too long being afraid of things, Gavin. As a boy, and when I first became a god. Afraid of judgment. Death. _Pain_. Losing the few things that I had left.”

Midas turned to look at him. In the shadows of the torch he looked older. Grimmer.

“Now I don’t waste time being scared,” he said. “I trust in my own power, and I go to take what I deserve… and to help others take what they deserve, too.”

Gavin managed a nod. He looked ahead of them - at the rough path leading deeper and deeper into tangled darkness. Midas leaned in close and whispered:

“Don’t be scared, Gavin.”

 

* * *

 

There was something deeply unsettling about the shapes of the trees as they ventured through the forest. Their twisting, odd angles reminded Gavin of some of the redstone circuits he’d seen in Ryan’s golems, all at funny, scientifically sharp angles. As if they weren’t in the natural world at all but rather picking their way through the inner workings of some terrible machine.

There was a horrible smell in the air, sickly sweet and rotten.

“Chorus fruit,” Midas explained, when he noticed Gavin coughing and wrinkling his nose. “It’s overripe by now.”

“It stinks like the dead,” Gavin muttered.

“We will be fine in here,” Midas assured him.

Still. It reminded him of his first night in the Wild. How he’d been in control of the mobs, sensitive to everything they saw and felt - but still scared. Scared about being alone, about being in the dark, about the lack of _civilisation_ around. Scared of getting lost, scared of starving-

But Dan had been there, blessed Dan who stuck close to his side, who was with him when they found the Wild castle, who curled up next to him as they slept within the ruins.

Midas seemed to know where he was going. He was surprisingly nimble for his size, managing to find routes over the tangled messes of tree roots and ducking under or around the maze-like obstacles formed by the branches.

Gavin took a shaky breath next to him, and Midas reached out and put a heavy hand on his arm. The contact was warm, comforting, _human_ \- and Midas turned and smiled at him, his white teeth bared in a mischievous grin. Something about it reminded Gavin of himself, back when he was a reckless boy running away from the orphanage, when he ran with other pickpockets in the streets. Two thieves in the night - wasn’t the dark where they worked best?

He grinned back.

 

* * *

 

They were so deep in the forest by now that Gavin couldn’t even see the sky above them any more. Just the light of the torch allowing them to see in a small circle around them. It felt damp and humid in here, and smelly, and there were too many trees around them. Gavin had never been claustrophobic, but he didn’t like it in here, even if his previous fear had abated a little.

Something huge rustled by them. He saw a shape between the trees - a great, dark flank, some enormous creature that stood tall as a house and was moving towards them. Heavy footsteps that snapped branches underfoot; loud, snuffling breaths - they both paused, and he pressed closer to Midas instinctively, his heart pounding.

An indistinct, four-legged shape paused right through the trees ahead of them. Huge purple eyes glinted in the darkness, and Gavin could see a wavering mist surrounding the creature, like the smoking trails of magic that had risen from the minotaur and the dragon.

Midas had one arm out in front of Gavin’s chest, something protective in the motion. But then he took the torch from Gavin’s hand and lifted it, bravely.

“Look at it, Wild king,” he whispered. “Let it see you.”

Gavin swallowed. His mouth had gone completely dry and his heart slammed so fast that he felt sick. But he lifted his head, and forced himself to stare into those hypnotic purple eyes.

The beast snuffled at them. He couldn’t tell what it was in the darkness, but its hot breath was creating streams of mist in the cold night air, and the sheer size of the thing was terrifying. It blinked slowly - once, twice - then took a step back before turning and leaving, each heavy step making the ground tremble.

“It fears us,” Midas said, and Gavin believed him.

“How is this going to work?” he whispered, as they continued through the forest. 

“What?”

“Us giving them the crowns.” He swallowed. “I mean, I… it’s _my_ crown, it’s my gift - I want to keep it.”

“We only need the beasts to frighten the people, to prove to them the threat from other worlds,” Midas pointed out. “Give it your Wild crown - it won’t matter! You have the gift. No one else can take it as long as you live. If anything, the beast will protect it for you. It will go to live in the Wild alone, and anyone who tries to go and take it will meet the fate they deserve for trying to rob you of your power. If we ever need the crown for some reason, we can take it back.” Midas shrugged. It all seemed to be very simple to hm. “Let it have it for now. It will be happy.”

“I don’t know if I want to give it away,” Gavin repeated, quietly.

“I understand your trepidation,” Midas said, “But the crown is just a symbol! The magic is already in your heart.” He reached out and touched Gavin’s chest, lightly, making him shiver. “You saw how it frightened the beast away.”  
  
Gavin bit his lip. He was still rather unsure - but Midas had a point. It had worked, hadn’t it? They had driven the beast away with just a look.

 

* * *

 

The King’s lair opened up from a hollow in the bottom of an enormous tree trunk. Rough-hewn stone steps led from the entrance down, deep into the earth, into total darkness. There was something unnatural about it, something that deeply unsettled Gavin - a feeling that within that black pit lurked something inhuman, something _wrong_ , something that should never be released.

He lifted the torch and gasped as he noticed black bones scattered around the hole - the remains of dead Wither. A broken, scattered ribcage, a cracked skull - whatever was in there, it was dangerous.

A sudden panic seized him. He stumbled back from the hole, shaking his head, hands trembling.

“Can’t - we shouldn’t-”

“Gavin, what’s wrong?” Midas turned to him, face creased in concern but also confusion. “We’ve come all this way.”

“This is wrong. What are we doing? Whatever’s down there, we should leave it, we should-”

“I promise, it’s okay.” Midas stepped towards him, and suddenly his big hands were clasping Gavin’s face, tilting his head back to look up at him. Gavin reached up and gripped his wrists, but Midas stared at him, gold eyes burning.

“Gavin - Gavin - don’t you _trust_ me? Don’t you trust _Robin_? We made this agreement together. I have no desire to destroy the Earth - we of the End are not monsters, we mean no harm. Not everything that lurks in the shadows is to be feared. Sometimes we were cast from the light for other reasons.”

Gavin gasped for breath. His chest was seized up with fear, with uncertainty - he felt a great guilt, thinking suddenly that he had made a terrible mistake coming here. Midas tugged him closer, hands cradling his face.

“Gavin,” he whispered, and Gavin felt him reach out in the bond. His own calm certainty spread into Gavin’s own panic and quelled it, like a soothing blanket of magic wrapping around him. “Don’t you want this? Remember what we’re doing this for. _Remember what you’re doing this for!”_

His thumbs stroked across Gavin’s cheekbones. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it was Ryan touching him. _Ryan. Michael. Geoff and Jack and Ray - all of us - together - if they_ let us.

_They won’t let us._

_They’ll never let us, not as long as they don’t see that this is how it’s meant to be. Make them see. They have to_ see.

He opened his eyes. Midas was staring back at him, a little smile on his face.

“You have beautiful eyes,” he said. Gavin hesitated, but Midas continued, “They call you a witch as though magic is something to be ashamed of. It’s not. _Embrace_ this, Gavin. When we succeed, no one will ever try to humiliate you again. You can put your past behind you. So can Ryan. So can I. Together we’ll finally be free.”

His arm slipped down around Gavin’s shoulders. Gavin leaned into him and looked at the dark hole again. He swallowed, hard. The tingling buzz of magic was unsettling, but he forced himself to take slow breaths. _You’re used to magic. It’s part of what makes you who you are. Just like he said._

_Embrace it_.

 

* * *

 

In the pitch blackness of the pit, every footfall sounded deafening. Bones snapped under Gavin’s boots - more Wither skeletons that had apparently met their unfortunate fate down here. The rhythmic _drip, drip, drip_ of water nearby made Gavin jump each time.

Midas had taken the torch. Gavin stuck close behind him, one hand clutching the spines on the back of the other man’s golden armour. His heart was pounding, and it only sped up when in the fringes of the torchlight he saw something standing in the corner of the pit. A shadowy form - he caught a glimpse of bony ribs, a long, snaking tail, smoking energy rising up around it-

“Wither King!” Midas called out, and Gavin jumped violently. Midas’ voice echoed through the hole, and he lifted the torch high.

The skeletal figure turned towards them. In the shadows, three sets of violet eyes burned-

 

* * *

 

Dawn was drawing near. The sky was beginning to lighten, birds starting up their shrill cries in the trees of the Wild. Ryan sat on the back steps of the castle, staring at the finished portals. They stood in a loose ring, a series of stone artefacts set up as if for some pagan ritual. He hadn’t slept all night, and his head was throbbing, his eyes so dry they hurt.

Footsteps rang out behind him, and a warm hand descended on his shoulder. He closed his eyes briefly.

_Jack_. The other man’s touch was gentle and comforting as he lowered himself to sit by Ryan’s side. Ryan smiled a little. It was nice to feel Jack’s warm arm pressed against his, to look over and see the concern in his eyes. He knew they were pissed off with him right now, but he still loved them, still craved that affection. Of course Jack wouldn’t let an argument get in the way of that.

“Have you slept at all?” Jack asked softly.

“I’m not tired,” Ryan replied, automatically.

Jack raised his eyebrows.

“You look tired,” he said. He pressed a little clay cup into Ryan’s hands - he looked down to find it full of steaming tea. His smile widened as he lifted it to take a sip - Jack watched him for a moment before glancing over at the ring of portals.

“So they work now,” he commented, but Ryan shook his head.

“Only the one to the Alps, because there’s a door there,” he explained. “Once we build doors in the Plains and the Desert, they’ll work as well. We need somewhere to appear once we step through, y’know?”

“Makes sense,” Jack replied.

There was a long silence. Ryan could sense Jack was itching to say something, and waited patiently. He’d been expecting one or the other of them to approach him alone, to try and _talk_ about what had happened yesterday. He’d just thought it would be Ray. He drank more of the tea and sighed as his headache died down a little.

“Before,” Jack began, tentatively. Ryan braced himself, but the words that came out weren’t the chastisements he was expecting. “You said you love me. I know it slipped out, but-”

“I meant it,” Ryan assured him. He swallowed - now that it wasn’t the heat of the moment, he felt a bit more self-conscious, but he wanted this. Gods, how he wanted this - wasn’t it why he’d taken such measures in the first place? “I do. I know you’re angry right now, but please, Jack, I need you to _see_ \- I know these men. They are not the sort of people you can reason with. I did what I had to, back in that tent - to protect _us_.”

“You were angry,” Jack said, and Ryan wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. “And you weren’t thinking straight.”

“I was thinking perfectly straight,” Ryan said.

Jack bit his lip and looked away. He seemed upset by that answer, and Ryan didn’t know what to say.

“Well in that case,” Jack said finally, “Are you okay? War is never easy. I fought Baron Nutt with Geoff for a long time. You don’t get used to killing people - killing your _own_. Civil disputes are uglier than most others.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ryan replied, but looked down. His fists clenched as he thought back to the tent. The sheer _fury_ that had taken over him. Yes, he had been thinking clearly, but that only meant he remembered every detail of what exactly had made him so angry.

“It was gruesome,” he said, “But I’d do it again for Gavin. Jack - you heard what they said about him.”

“I know,” Jack replied. For a moment, he looked furious too. “I know, but… Ryan, that’s not how I like to deal with things.”

“In your kingdom, you deal with them however you like,” Ryan said, voice tight. “In mine, I will rule the way I please.”

“If that’s how it is,” Jack said, stiffly.

“Right now? That’s how it fucking is.”

Jack rose, and Ryan bit his lip, upset. Determined he might be, but he didn’t _like_ the others being pissed off at him, and for a moment he thought Jack would leave and was sorry he’d snapped. But Jack was just peering around the area - as the sky grew lighter, more of the courtyard was visible. Geoff’s shattered tomb in the corner. The roses around it.

“I was actually looking for Gav,” Jack said, and turned back to Ryan. “Have you seen him?”

“Not since last evening,” Ryan said. “He’s probably asleep. Poor thing’s been exhausted since… well, since Geoff died, it feels like.”

The tiredness had never ended. Even when he and Gavin were working together in the Stoneworld, they’d spent so many nights up late and mornings up early trying to get as much done as possible. All of them were wiped out by this point - and all Ryan wanted was a chance for them to wind down. He knew when you were king, those moments were few and far between, but could they not just have a second to themselves? He felt so run down himself, had gone too long snatching barely any sleep. It was a wonder none of them had fallen sick by now.

“He was sleeping with us last night,” Jack began.

“Oh. Well, okay then.”

“No, not like that.” Jack’s brows furrowed. “We were just _sleeping_. Like you said, he seemed exhausted. But I woke up half an hour ago and he’s just vanished. He’s not in his room, not with any of the others-”

“Probably went for a walk,” Ryan replied, unconcerned. “Just clearing his head. I can still feel him.”

He gestured at his head, and the reason he wasn’t bothered. Gavin felt perfectly stable in his mind. Almost unnaturally stable - when Ryan reached out he found him nearly blank, no turbulent emotions there. He would’ve thought the other man was completely asleep if Jack hadn’t mentioned otherwise.

“We could still feel him when he went through the End portal,” Jack pointed out. That had been a surprise, not getting cut off like they had with the Nether.

“Why would he go back, Jack?” Ryan replied. “Maybe he’s with Dan. Why are you so worried?”

“I’ve just got a bad feeling,” Jack muttered.

There was something so small and vulnerable in his voice that any of Ryan’s lingering annoyance faded away. He was scared too, and it was clear that what they _all_ wanted here was for all of them to be safe and well.

“It’ll be fine,” he murmured. He rose, too, and reached out to clasp Jack’s face, drawing him in to kiss him slowly. Jack clutched at his arms, holding him close. It was nice for a moment, to forget a little - to know that they still both _wanted_ this, wanted to make it work - that despite their argument, they fit together as well as they always had.

Then they pulled apart, and Ryan stiffened.

“What?” Jack asked, noticing how he tensed.

“The sun’s rising,” Ryan whispered.

Sure enough, in the sky beyond, the sun was rising above the dark lines of the trees, casting a golden glow across the clearing. The redstone in the portals and the tomb glinted prettily.

“And?” Jack asked, confused.

“And it’s dawn,” Ryan said, his chest tightening. “And he hasn’t surrendered.”

He took a deep breath. For a moment he felt so completely out of his depth here that he didn’t know what to do. He’d been expecting Claudius to give in. Now that he hadn’t, the future had seemed to open up before him like the ocean’s depths; dark and unwavering, filled with treacherous currents and hidden dangers. Too easy to lose yourself in. He met Jack’s eyes, and saw how afraid the other man was, too - of what this might mean for all of them.

But Ryan forced himself to harden, his face turning blank, gathering his resolve. He wasn’t going to be weak again. Not like with his mother. This was _his_ kingdom, and he was going to take it back.

“Go see if the others are awake,” he ordered, turning away. “Michael was out here earlier - I’m going to find him. We need to talk.”

“Ryan!”

Jack grabbed his arm and Ryan turned to face him. The other man’s eyes were wide, and he still looked afraid - but not of Claudius, Ryan realised, with a sinking feeling. Of the coldness on Ryan’s own face.

“I’m worried,” Jack said, slowly, “That you’re going to do something you regret.”

Ryan put a hand over his and gently pulled it from his arm. For a moment he let their fingers tangle together, and gave Jack a reassuring smile. His heart was pounding.

“It’s completely the other way around,” he replied, voice soft but sure. “I’ve done too many things I regret. Too many times I was weak, or scared. But this time - this time, I’m finally fighting for what I want. You, and the others. Can’t you see that?”

Jack bit his lip. Ryan squeezed his hand, but didn’t have time to reassure him more. He let go and turned away, leaving before Jack could stop him again.

 

* * *

 

Ray sat at one of the tables in the hall, picking at a plate of food. He felt nauseous from lack of sleep and the wine he’d far too impulsively drunk last night. After all, alcohol seemed to soothe everyone else. In a moment of hysterical annoyance he’d figured he’d give it a shot and see if it washed all his problems away as well. It’d tasted as foul as he remembered and only served to give him a pounding headache. His arm hurt, too, from being held in one position so long with the sling.

Chris and Barbara sat across the room. They were both staring at him, and he felt rather awkward. He remembered getting along with them last time, but everything was different now.

_I wonder what they think of Gavin being with everybody,_ he thought.

Jack came up next to him, and Ray looked up at him groggily. Jack frowned.

“Gods, Ray. You look like shit.”

“Didn’t sleep well.”

“Join the club, apparently.” Jack reached out and pulled at his arm. “Come on - we have a meeting in a minute in the throne room. By the way, have you seen Gav around?”

“No?” Ray glanced across at the others, and Jack followed his gaze.

“Hey,” he called out to them, and Ray didn’t miss the steadily building worry in his voice. “You two know where Gavin is?”

Ray was starting to feel worried now, as well. He’d assumed Gavin was with Jack and Geoff. 

“Late last night I was guarding the wall and I saw him talking to Dan at the back gate,” Barbara called back. “I haven’t seen him since - he’s not with you?”

“No, but I assume he’s off with Dan somewhere, then,” Jack said. His shoulders slumped in relief, and Ray felt the vice around his own chest loosen. Jack pulled at his arm. “Come on then.”

“Claudius hasn’t sent word,” Ray whispered, as they headed for the throne room together. 

Jack’s face was drawn and worried.

“I know,” he said.

“Ryan will attack the city.”

“Yes, I believe he’ll try to.”

“You don’t think he should?” Ray asked, and bit his lip. There was something a little too helpless in the question. He felt out of his depth here - had no idea what to do. He’d never had to be the one to handle a situation like this.

Something grim passed across Jack’s face that startled Ray. It was so uncharacteristic of him that he didn’t like it.

“I still think we can talk our way out of it,” Jack said, and sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “He shouldn’t have turned off the power last night. That affects more people than just the nobility. Given the sort of things they’re saying about him in the city, it’s not a good idea to do anything drastically violent straight-up. We need to damage control or things will get even uglier. I’m going to suggest that Geoff and I go into the city using the Sight. We’ll explain about the portals - to _everyone_ \- and convince the nobility to hold a public meeting between Claudius and Ryan. Transparency is the way to go here.”

Ray nodded. It all sounded lovely in theory, but then again, hadn’t the first meeting sounded like it would work, too?

“Michael will want to fight,” he pointed out, his stomach twisting.

Jack’s face turned even harder.

“It’ll be fine,” he said, but didn’t sound quite as sure as he usually did.

Geoff wandered up and joined them. He caught the tail end of their conversation, and all he did was raise his eyebrows. Ray glanced up at him - scruffy and unshaven after a night here in the Wild - and loved him suddenly. Geoff’s mere presence seemed to make him feel more in control. After all, they’d brought him _back,_ hadn’t they? Together? If they could make that work, they could make anything work.

“You okay?” Jack asked, glancing at him.

“I did shit all to stop Michael and Ryan the other day,” Geoff muttered. “I’m not gonna let something like that happen again.”

They reached the throne room. Ryan and Michael were already standing there, heads bent close over a map of the Stoneworld. They looked up, and Michael and Ray’s eyes met. Something awkward passed between them.

They hadn’t really _fought_ since their last big conflict with each other when they first married. Ray had forgotten how much he hated it. But he didn’t want _this_ to be another fight. He smiled, and Michael looked pleased, mouth stretching into a wide grin.

Ray was relieved - but that faded in an instant when Michael ushered him over to the table and slung an arm around Ray’s shoulders, pointing to the map.

“Ryan has potions of invisibility!” he declared. “We’re thinking of using them to infiltrate the city.”

Ray’s stomach dropped. He heard Geoff gasp behind him.

“Wait, wait, what the _fuck_ , Ryan?” he shrieked. “You’ve gone from turning on people during a peaceful meet to a sneak attack? What the fuck are you gonna do? Stab Claudius in the back?”

Ryan’s face was very hard.

“He’s tried to stab me in mine before,” he pointed out. “Quite literally.”

He rubbed his side, where Ray knew he had a scar. Gods, that had been a long time ago - back when they all still hated each other, when they’d felt Ryan veer close to death. He’d nearly forgotten the incident. This had been brewing a long time.

Geoff glanced at Jack miserably. Ryan slammed a hand down on the map.

“He hasn’t surrendered,” Ryan declared. “So I’m taking my crown back. I gave him ample fucking warning. The lights stay off - we attack in the dark, tonight.”

“Okay, but it’s not just you who decides that,” Jack spoke up, his voice trembling but calm. “Whatever choice we make here reflects on _all_ of us. I have an alternate plan.”

Ryan waved a hand, dismissive, and Geoff stepped forward angrily.

“Hey asshole,” he said, “You’re not the only one who’s coming up with things here! If you’re using _our_ forces, if you’re aligning yourself with _our_ kingdoms, that _reflects on all of us!_ You can’t just do whatever you fucking like?”

“ _I’m_ the asshole?” Ryan asked. He sounded amused, but Ray could hear the tremor in his voice. “The one trying to deal with this shit so we can all be together?”

“Don’t bring that into it,” Geoff snapped. “We want to deal with this, we _all_ do. It’s how you go about it that’s important.”

Ryan swallowed. He looked around at all the others - his eyes met Ray for a moment, and Ray gazed calmly back at him. Finally, Ryan nodded, something a little more apologetic in his face as he looked at Jack.

“Okay,” he said. “Go ahead.”

“We go with what we originally wanted to do in that tent, but on a bigger scale,” Jack said. “Explain the benefits of the alliance. The portals. The other worlds. Except we don’t just tell Claudius and his council, who could twist our words. We tell _everybody_. Claudius has a council on his side, but there are other powerful people in that city who weren’t loyal to Tamora. If they turn against him, his coup will lose traction. Geoff and I go in with the Sight and publicly announce we want a meeting. A meeting that everyone can come to watch. You’re a great speaker, Ryan - you’ll be able to take Claudius down through logic alone. Get Mica back into the city and you’ll have most of your army back. Once everyone sees how good things would be with us, they’ll turn against him instead of against you-”

He broke off. Ryan was already shaking his head.

“That won’t work,” he insisted, quietly. “I know what he’s like. He’ll betray us at the meeting, or just point-blank refuse to do anything we say.”

“Like you betrayed him at the other meeting?” Jack demanded, and Ryan scoffed, throwing his head back.   


“He didn’t even fucking show up! He’s _mocking_ us, Jack - can’t you see?”

“Where’s Gav?” Michael asked suddenly, looking around the room. “We should use his mobs in the plan.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna make him popular with the people,” Ray began.

Ryan suddenly rounded on him, and Ray flinched back a little. The _anger_ in the other man’s eyes was startling, almost frightening. Ray didn’t think Ryan had ever turned that on _him_ before.

“Michael’s right about yesterday,” Ryan hissed, and Ray suddenly realised he was _furious_. “You weren’t there. You want to fucking know how _popular_ Gavin is with the people?”

“Ryan,” Michael began hesitantly.

Ryan pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket and slammed it down on the table in front of them, flinging out a trembling hand.

“You fucking _see_?” he hissed.

Ray looked away immediately, face red as he caught a glimpse of the picture. The others stared in horror - his heart was pounding; he felt sick.

“Fucking hell,” Jack breathed.

“That’s what he’s spreading around in there!” Ryan’s voice was shaking so badly he could barely get the words out. Ray had never heard him sound like that before. “The longer we _wait_ , the more shit like this gets spread around the place! We can’t _afford this!_ Also, I don’t see Gavin complaining about how I handled yesterday’s situation!”

“He’s not even here,” Geoff said, but his face was pale. Ryan turned to him, and Geoff stepped forward, reaching out to touch his arm. “Ryan - I respect that you know the Stoneworld better than us. But please - we have experience with this sort of thing, too. With war, with unrest. I don’t think attacking the Stoneworld is a good idea.”

“Neither do I,” Jack said.

Ray shook his head as well. Michael looked pained, stepping away from him, his arm falling from Ray’s shoulders. Ray hated the almost betrayed look on the other man’s face - but it was true. He didn’t _want_ this. He was scared they were starting something they couldn’t control.

There was a long silence. Ryan was staring at each of them, and Ray couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His face was frighteningly blank. Finally, Jack cleared his throat.

“Try my idea,” he said softly. “ _Please_.”

“He had his chance to surrender,” Ryan replied, coldly. “What makes you think you can change his mind?”

“It’s not Claudius I want this for,” Jack explained. “It’s the people in the city who will be terrified of this conflict. His council are close to him, but the rest of the nobility can still be swayed. We meet. We show them the prosperity that will come with this alliance. We get them to turn against him. We get your soldiers in the city against him. That will force him to surrender.”

Geoff was nodding. It sounded so simple when he laid it out like that, step by step.

“Just like you,” Jack continued, “He can’t do anything without support. If Gavin brings his mobs, the mercenaries will be scared. I doubt they signed up for a fight with the whole of the Wild.”

“This way,” Geoff added, “Our councils are happy with things as well. Because I can tell you right now - they’re not fucking pleased with how things went down yesterday.”

Ray’s heart was pounding as he watched Ryan consider this. Michael was staring at the Stone king, expectantly. It was strange - Geoff was the one he usually followed, but right now Ray could tell that Michael would do whatever Ryan wanted.

But then Ryan slowly shook his head, and something inside Ray broke a little.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and really did sound it. “I can’t risk it not working out for us. I hesitated against my mother in the Nether and she nearly killed me. I won’t risk losing my crown, losing all I’ve built - I _can’t_. If you don’t wish to support the battle, that’s fine.”

“I will, Ryan,” Michael spoke up softly.

“That’s not just your decision to make,” Ray began. His own voice sounded foreign to his ears - flat and tight, and he hated how the look Michael gave him made him feel like he was betraying them somehow.

Jack and Geoff looked torn. But now that Ryan had come to a decision - he had hardened again. He looked like the ruthless King who’d been determined to win the games. Ray could tell, immediately, that no amount of discussion would change things.

Ryan looked down at the picture still on the table. He suddenly snatched it up and with vicious, abrupt motions, ripped the entire thing to shreds as the rest of them watched in silence. He opened his hands and the pieces of paper drifted to the floor, like ash after a bad fire.

“I’m off to talk to Mica about getting some of our army back together,” Ryan announced then. His tone left no room for argument. “We attack at nightfall - unless Claudius is just running late and comes to surrender before then. He’s probably shitting himself without any power in the city.” He gave a tight smile. “It will only make him want to kill me even more.”

He started to walk to of the room, but Geoff’s hand shot out. He grabbed Ryan’s wrist and yanked him back, roughly.

“We need to discuss this more,” he began, but from the way his voice broke a little, Ray could tell he knew he was fighting a losing battle here. “Don’t just brush us off. Together, we do this _together_ , remember-“

“Geoff,” Ryan said, so tenderly that Geoff’s eyes widened a little. “You can’t change my mind. I’m not angry with you about this. I know that we see things differently. But I’m doing this for _us_. If you don’t want to get your hands dirty - that’s your choice to make. I won’t hold it against the Plains once I have my kingdom back.”

Geoff bit his lip. He looked upset, and Jack’s shoulders were slumped. He was shaking his head slowly.

Ryan pulled himself free and Geoff’s hand fell limply back to his side. Ryan looked around the room again.

“If you see Gavin around,” he said, “Tell him I want to talk to him.”

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving them in a tense silence. Ray felt numb, but he knew exactly why. He was scared. It hadn’t quite hit him yet, but he was fucking terrified of what might happen now. Yesterday, Geoff and Jack had helped him bring word of what had transpired back to his own kingdom. The Desert council had been worried - they were bound to the Alps, and so had to show their support, but he could tell they weren’t at all happy about this.

Michael was glaring at them.

“Ryan might not be angry,” he said, “But I sure am. What the fuck, guys? Yeah, we’re in this together - so why don’t you show him some damn support?”

“You’re young, Michael,” Geoff said. His voice was gentle, but clearly chastising. “I’m glad your people are behind you on this one, but being a king isn’t just about doing what you want all the damn time.”

Ray winced as Michael’s face clouded over. He’d clearly taken offence.

“Yeah, well, we all did what we wanted to get _you_ back, didn’t we? Most people would’ve said that was a pretty fucking stupid idea. But we did it, because it was _important_. This is fucking important too.”

He immediately looked like he regretted the words when Geoff’s face fell, shocked and hurt. Jack’s mouth had dropped open, and Ray felt sick. Things had been going so _well_ between them all - and now, in a second, it seemed like they were falling apart.

“Michael,” he said. “That was harsh.”

“I know.” Michael had the grace to look rather ashamed. “I’m sorry, Geoff. I… you know I respect you a lot, but gods, did you see that picture? Did you hear what the messenger said to us? I’m not gonna lie down and take this. I refuse to. There’s a time for playing nicely, but it’s not fucking now. Every damn time I play by the rules, someone comes along and turns on me. Not this time.”

He was staring at Ray now, earnestly, and it made his heart ache. He loved his husband. He wanted to fight by his side. They were better together. Stronger together. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that the others were _wrong_ about all this.

Michael must’ve seen in his face that he wasn’t convinced. He looked very pained.

“Don’t you understand that this is what people _need_ to see?” he pleaded, turning to Geoff and Jack, now. “That we have each others’ backs here, even if people don’t like it? I thought that’s what we all had together.”

Jack reached out to touch him, but Michael shrugged him off.

“So what are you gonna do?” he demanded. “Just sit by and watch?”

“Are you going to put us in that position?” Geoff asked, quietly.

“You’re putting yourselves there,” Michael snapped. He lifted his chin. “And if Gav joins us - you’ll let him go into battle without you?”

There was silence, and Ray saw Michael’s anger slowly rise to a peak. Finally, he blew a great puff of air out of his nose, and threw his hands up.

“I need a fucking drink!” he yelled, and left the room angrily.

Ray bit his lip as he watched his husband leave. As soon as he was gone, Geoff sank down to sit on the stone steps of the throne and put his head in his hands. Ray looked at Jack, hoping he’d have a plan - but he was staring after Michael, too, his lips pressed together tightly.

“Well that didn’t go as planned,” he said finally. “They wouldn’t even hear me out.”

“They heard you out,” Geoff replied. “They just didn’t agree. Ray,” he added, looking at him. “You with us on this?”

Ray hesitated - but he knew where his heart was, and he nodded.

“I am, but… the Desert is expected to support the Alps. Now that Michael and I are married it’ll look… really, really bad if we’re fighting with each other on this. I don’t know what to do,” he added, miserably. 

He ran his hands over his face, feeling his headache start to build up again. 

“I’ll go talk to him in a minute… Shit. He’s really angry about this, I think he… he feels bad about getting injured and not being able to help as much with getting you back, Geoff. About not being the one to kill the Overlord. He wants to fight for this - for _us_. And I can understand it - that’s just what he’s like - but like you said… it reflects badly on us if… if us being together is leading to this sort of conflict.”

Jack and Geoff were nodding, but Ray could already see that they didn’t have the answers he needed. That he _wanted_.

“The thing is,” Geoff began slowly, “Of course I want to help defend Ryan. I want to fight for him. I’m fucking furious about the shit they’re saying about Gav. But our meeting yesterday…”

He and Jack glanced at each other, and Ray saw something resigned and deeply exhausted pass between them.

“There’s a lot of pressure in the Plains council for us to denounce Ryan and Gavin,” Jack admitted. “Especially after what happened yesterday. Of course we never would, but… it’s not looking good for us. The disruption of Geoff dying then coming back so soon after Nutt…”

“Ryan doesn’t realise it,” Geoff added, “But he’s put us in exactly the position we wanted to fucking avoid! Being forced to choose between the people we… we _love_ , and our duty to our country…” He threw his hands up, helplessly. “We are not dictators. We listen to our people, when we can. We can’t just tell them that we’re right because we love this man and we want to support him.”

“So we’re stuck,” Ray said glumly, and the other two nodded.

“We’ll go back and talk to them,” Jack said, and sighed heavily, hands running through his hair. “See if we can’t come up with some sort of compromise. Maybe we can strike a trade deal with Gavin to make us formally allies. If we do it quickly, it’d give us a reason to move against Claudius.”

Ray nodded, slowly. They’d signed alliance treaties shortly after Geoff’s death, but it had been difficult to organise a properly official one with Gavin’s kingdom simply because there was so little actually built there.

“I should talk to Michael,” he said tiredly, and the others nodded. There was another pause - Ray felt an odd pressure building up in his chest. He looked down and realised his hands were shaking - he was so anxious he felt sick.

“I hate this,” he spat suddenly - something fierce and _miserable_ in it. “I… I hate that I’m annoyed with them. I hate that Ryan won’t _listen_ , that even after everything we’ve been through it feels like he still doesn’t fully trust us. I hate Claudius for doing this to us. Ryan says he’s not angry, but I really think he is.”

“I know,” Jack whispered.

“Isn’t there an easy way out of this?” Ray begged. “Isn’t that how it works in the stories? When everyone _loves_ each other - things work out for them.”

“Only in stories,” Jack murmured, and Ray choked back a furious sob, looking away.

“Hey.” Suddenly Geoff was next to him, one gentle hand on his jaw, lifting his chin until Ray’s eyes met his. “I didn’t come back from the dead to let something like this tear us apart. No matter what happens - in the end we’ll make sure we’re all together. Somehow we’ll fix this, I promise.”

He ran a hand down Ray’s cheek before taking his hands and squeezing reassuringly. Ray moved forward and hugged him tightly - felt Geoff press a gentle kiss to the top of his head. Jack moved up too, arms wrapping around Ray from behind. He still didn’t know the two of them quite as well as the others, but somehow felt much closer to them because of all this. It was nice to take a moment to relish that, at least.

 

* * *

 

Ryan stood at one of the watch outposts along the wall, staring pensively out into the forest. He had his plan, and on paper it was a good one - the potions, a way to sneak into the city, the golems, his soldiers - but Mica had gone to meet with his contact in the city again, and he was worried what news she’d bring back.

He turned back towards the castle, fists clenched. Despite what he’d said, some bitter, petty part of himself was angry with the others for not supporting him.

_We’re allies. Isn’t this what we’re meant to do? They’re acting like you’ve lost your mind, like you’re just doing this to be cruel, like this isn’t the only logical fucking choice here._

_The longer you wait, the more people get hurt._

_The people that matter, at least._

A flash of movement caught his eye. He turned to see Michael storming out the castle doors, angrily. He noticed Ryan and stomped over to stand beside him, reaching out to squeeze his arm. Their eyes met, and Ryan could tell he felt the same rage.

“Thank you, for back there,” he said, and Michael inclined his head.

“It’s nothing.”

“I know you usually follow Geoff-”

“Not in this,” Michael cut in. He looked upset at the mention of the other man, but he swallowed hard and shook himself. “Not in…”

He trailed off, uncertainly. Ryan knew he was still shaken by the loss of his father, then Geoff’s own death - he had been touched by grief recently, and must be frightened to lose anyone else. And when something upset Michael, he tended to react violently.

“Geoff’s scared because of what happened with Nutt,” Ryan pointed out, and sighed. “We’ll deal with this - then he’ll see we were right.”

Michael opened his mouth, but because he could reply, Ray emerged from the castle. He was looking around, clearly searching for them, and Ryan saw Michael’s shoulders tense. 

“We should talk,” Michael muttered. “He’s angry with me.”

“And me,” Ryan added. That disappointed him; he’d always liked Ray, and usually the other man was the only person completely unfazed by him. To have Ray so overtly _displeased_ with his behaviour was new - and not a very nice feeling. He bit his lip as he watched Ray wander across the courtyard. “Do you want a moment alone?”

“No, you… you should be there, too. This is about you, after all.”

Michael swallowed, and Ryan could see he was _nervous_ , under all his bravado. He reached out and pressed Michael’s wrist.

“Okay?” he asked, and Michael looked away.

“I don’t like Jack and Geoff being pissed at me,” he muttered. “They think I’m a stupid child but I’m not. I’m _not.”_

Before Ryan could reply, Michael turned away and headed for Ray. Ryan trailed behind him, frowning a little. Ray looked up and noticed them. His eyes widened, and he moved towards them - only for all of them to suddenly notice Dan entering from another gate, and seem to come to some unanimous decision to make a beeline for him instead.

“Gruchy,” Ryan called out - Dan looked up, seeming a bit taken aback to see three kings all flocking towards him. 

“Can I help you with something?” he asked. “Still no word from Claudius, if that’s what you’re wondering. It’s quiet as fuck out there.”

“Looking for Gavin, actually,” Ryan replied.

“Chris said you were the last person to talk to him last night,” Ray added with a frown. “So I figured he was with you.”

Dan looked briefly surprised.

“I haven’t seen him since last night,” he replied. He must’ve noticed the alarm that flashed across all their faces, because he added, “But he told me he was going out to the temples and not to worry about anything. That he had his mobs with him and he knew what he was doing.”  
  
“The temples?” Ryan asked. He suddenly remembered Jack’s fear - that Gavin had returned through the End portal - and felt a sudden dread. Reaching out for Gavin in the bond, he again found him too calm. Too steady. “Did he say why?”

"Yeah,” Dan said, and his face creased in confusion. “Said he wanted to pray or some shit.”

Michael and Ray exchanged a glance. 

“I think he’s fine,” Dan added, “He was really calm when he came to let me know where he was going. Seemed tired, but said he needed to clear his head. Said he might also be going to grab some of the treasure that was in those temples, too, in case it could be used for any sort of bargaining in the meetings.”

“There won’t be any more meetings,” Ryan muttered, but his fears had eased. Dan knew Gavin better than just about anyone, and if he said the other man had just gone out to the Wild for a bit, Ryan believed him. Gavin was probably just trying to get away from the tension and arguing - Ryan had noticed how quiet he was yesterday. He couldn’t blame him; it was getting overwhelming here.

Still. Dan wandered off, and the three of them were left looking around at each other.

“Gavin doesn’t pray,” Ray said, voice tight. “He doesn’t believe in the gods.”

“Maybe he just meant he wanted to go look at the statues and Dan misunderstood,” Michael suggested. Ray didn’t look convinced. He glanced away, and Michael reached out, hesitated, then seemed to think _fuck it_ and put a hand on his arm.

“You’re upset with us,” he said softly, and Ray stiffened. He looked up and glanced between them. Ryan gazed back at him calmly.

“I’ve looked at this from your point of view,” he began. “I know why you’re doing this.”

“But you still won’t help us,” Ryan said, trying to tamp down his spark of annoyance. _You don’t know. None of you know what’s been like trying to rule with these assholes in court, a constant reminder of my mother’s way of doing things. None of you know what it was like to see her again._

_Not all of us have the luxury of being soft, and kind, and still being respected._

“But I still think Jack and Geoff know what they’re doing,” Ray retorted. “They dealt with this, when Baron Nutt tried to rise up against them.”

“They were still at war for eight months,” Ryan pointed out. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid. I want to just end this, quickly and decisively.”

Ray bit his lip. He turned to Michael, looking pained.

“I don’t want us to be on opposite sides here, Michael,” he said softly.

“There are sides forming now, are there?” Michael replied.

“I don’t want there to be,” Ray said, “But the rest of us all agree that you’re going too far, too fast.”

That hurt, that they didn’t trust him - that they thought him cruel, even after all this time. But Ryan could see that this was something they had to work out between the two of them - they were _married_ , after all - and he stood back a little.

Michael was staring at Ray. He still looked angry, but there was something desperate in his face now, too. Like he was worried as well that somehow, what was going on here would put a rift between them that wouldn’t be able to be fixed.

“What’s the problem here, Ray?” he asked finally. “You trust Ryan, don’t you? You trust _us_? You _know_ these people won’t see reason, you have to!”

Ray pressed his lips together, and Michael stepped closer to him.

“What’s going on here?” he urged. “I know there’s something.”

Ray swallowed. He looked between the two of them before finally taking a deep breath.

“It’s not just about Claudius, here,” he said softly. “It’s about everyone in the city. I think… I think what that woman said hit both of you too hard. I think you’re reacting this way because you’re insecure about what she said about living up to your parents.”

Michael went very stiff, the colour draining from his face.

Ryan tensed as well. He couldn’t help thinking of Tamora again - of how he had turned, in the Nether, and seen her standing there. Of the horrible rush of emotions that’d flooded him - how in an instant all his old insecurities had risen back up. His desire to love and admire a parent warring with his disgust at her behaviour - his guilt at how he had betrayed her, his anger at her forcing him to do it - and below all that, the deep, deep _pain_ at not having a mother to look up to. 

That was partly why he’d almost been fooled by her. Deep down, some part of him had _wanted_ her to be proud - to see his accomplishments and realise all he’d done, for _their_ kingdom. To realise he’d been capable all along.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Michael hissed. Ray stepped forward and tried to take his hands, but Michael snatched them away.

“Just because your father liked to fight all the time doesn’t mean you have to as well,” Ray said. “We do things _differently_ \- that’s why we got married, isn’t it? A better way to strengthen our power than going to war constantly. You’ve done such a great job since you inherited - you don’t need to kill people to prove that you’re in control right now.”

Michael was trembling.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said, defensively.

“I think you do,” Ray insisted. “Gods, Michael - you nearly won the games. You went to the Nether and back. You’ve more than proven yourself. Hell, out of all of us you’re probably the most popular among your people. But you’re not your father - you don’t _have_ to be.”

“Yeah, well you’re not your fucking parents, either,” Michael shot back. “Maybe _they_ would’ve sat back and done nothing here, just because they were too scared of fucking offending somebody. We’re not like that. We all care about each other.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ray’s face had gone tight with anger. “My parents wouldn’t-”

“Don’t fucking kid yourself, Ray. They’d never have gotten involved to defend _Ryan_. They wouldn’t be able to see past the fact that it’s the Stoneworld.”

“Yeah, like your father would’ve either! He’d’ve been killing them just for the sake of killing Stone soldiers! There’s no need to be as barbaric as that, Michael-”

“ _Barbaric?”_ Michael demanded, and Ray grimaced, but held his ground.

“That’s right. Slaughtering an entire tent full of people during a peaceful meeting-”

“I’m sorry, did you miss the part where she called me a failure, Ryan weak, and Gavin a _whore_ -”

“A _peaceful_ meeting,” Ray repeated, “So yes, Michael, that’s fucking barbaric. So were your mother and father. So is the way your kingdom does things.”

“Then why’d you fucking marry into it?” Michael yelled, and shoved Ray back away from him. Ray gasped, reaching up to rub his injured shoulder. Michael was fuming, shoulders tensed up, and Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. He took a step forward, but Michael seemed to have himself under control, even if his fists were clenched tightly by his sides.

“You say we’re the ones who have issues, but it’s literally you,” he snapped. “Since you saw your mother’s drawings in the Nether you’ve been acting weirdly! This isn’t _you_ , Ray - normally you’d support Ryan and I without a thought! How come only _now_ you’re worried what people will think? Like I said - it’s _your_ parents who would’ve been careful, who would’ve sat back and waited _,_ because they were _weak_. This is _us_ now, Ray, all fucking six of us _together_ , and we have each others’ backs, and _that’s_ what makes us different! I thought you understood that!”

“Don’t you say shit like that about my parents,” Ray hissed, and Ryan had never heard him sound so angry.

Michael seethed.

“You just called _my_ parents _barbaric!_ ”

“Maybe they would’ve been proud to see you acting like this,” Ray spat, “But I’m not. I’m disappointed. You know what, Michael, you’re right. This isn’t what I thought I was marrying into.”

He rubbed his shoulder again. Michael scowled, and stepped forward.

“Well, that’s your problem now,” he spat. “I’m supporting Ryan, so yeah, you’re gonna need to pick a fucking _side_ here, Ray.”

Ray stared at him for a moment, eyes burning angrily. Then he turned and looked at Ryan, who stared back at them. The entire conversation he’d watched with an oddly detached feeling, unwilling to step in. As their words struck each other like blows, all he could think was that he, too, was what his mother had made him. For better or worse.

“King Ryan,” a voice called behind him, and he turned to see Mica beckoning him from the gate. He glanced back at Michael and Ray, but they still stood, facing off against one another. He had an awful sinking feeling at the sight of them at odds with each other again, but forced it away as he turned to go to Mica.

_It’s just for now. Once I_ end _this, we’ll all be able to be together. We’ll forget the fights we had, the conflict. But until Claudius is dead - until they’re_ all _dead - we can’t put the past behind us._

_End this - for everybody_.

 

* * *

 

“What the hell is that smell?” Gavin asked, as he walked into the kitchen of Midas’ castle. He’d somehow managed to fall asleep for a few hours, and after his nap he felt groggy and disoriented. It was day by now, and he wondered what the others were up to. If they had realised he was gone, yet. Dan should’ve kept them off his case, but it was hard to tell what was going on. When he was in the End, the soul bond felt strange - intact, but static and unchanging.

“I’m baking,” Midas replied. He was bent over the stove, and Gavin took another deep breath. The light aroma of sugar and cinnamon hit him.

“ _Why_?”

“I want to give the others a good first impression.”

“So you’re baking them a bloody cake?” Gavin burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it; he felt sick with nerves about bringing Midas back into their world, and the events of the last day or so felt like a dream.

_The gods damned Wither king is lurking around outside waiting for me to open the portal. Midas is about to return after thousands of years. You’re going to start - and win - a war with the Stoneworld. And he’s baking a fucking cake._

“That’s absurd,” he said, and Midas huffed as he lifted the tray from the oven carefully. They wouldn’t be leaving for a few hours more - the Wither were mobilising, preparing their armour and weapons.

He turned to face Gavin, and Gavin realised suddenly that he looked _nervous_. 

“I thought you weren’t scared of anything!” he said, and Midas took off the thick gloves he’d used to take the tray from the oven.

“I’m not _scared_ ,” he replied. “I’m just… I want this to work, Gavin, for all of us. But the other gifted have never been overly fond of me. I don’t want things to end how they did last time. I’ve been alone here for thousands of years. I want a _life_ again, a life with other people in it. You. And them.”

He picked a burnt piece from the edge of the cake, and Gavin felt suddenly very sorry for him. His days alone in the Wild had been hard - at least he’d had Dan with him. He couldn’t imagine being Midas, locked away here for millennia, building an amazing city but with no one to show it off to.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” he whispered. “They’re not scary people.”

“But they don’t think much of me. You said yourself - they didn’t want to let me out.”

“They haven’t met you. They haven’t _seen_. When we take care of Claudius - then they’ll realise.”

“I hope so.” Midas shifted his feet before shoving the cake away and going to cut some fruit instead. “How did you sleep? I thought I’d let you rest - we have a little time before we go back through.”

“It was okay. I still don’t know if I’m in fighting shape.” Gavin touched his side again. Every time he moved too fast, it hurt. It was a constant reminder that it hadn’t been that long since the Nether - that everything was moving so quickly and leaving them no time to recover in between. 

“You won’t need to fight. You have the mobs, and me, and the beast. That will be more than enough.” Midas took a handful of sliced strawberries and began arranging them on top of his cake. Thoughtfully, he turned one to gold and placed it in the centre. Gavin watched him.

“Once they meet you,” he repeated quietly, and wasn’t sure which of them he was trying to reassure, “They’ll see.”

Midas sighed. He lifted the knife again and wiped it, then stepped towards Gavin, who looked up at him warily. But Midas just held out one hand.  
  
“When we cross back through the portal,” he said, “You and I need to be bonded. Some way of cloaking me to get me back through.”

“Bonded… what does that involve?”

“You told me before how you and the others strengthened the soul bond, back in the Wild. A similar ritual to what the first kings and queens did, after the tower was broken apart. Your magic is irrevocably entwined with the others because of it. Let me in, too.”

Gavin bit his lip. He looked down at his palms. On one hand was the jagged scar where he’d cut himself before holding hands with all the others. Since then, _all_ their magic had been stronger.

_Once you do this, there’s no going back. You’re really going to let him out?_

_He’s the only one who can help us. I trust him. My father trusted him. He’s right, about all of it - we deserve more. They won’t give it to us - so we must take it._

He held out his other hand. Midas took it, gently - Gavin trusted his touch, now - and pressed the knife to it.

“Are you sure?” he said. It was nice that he’d asked, Gavin thought. He nodded, and Midas turned the blade until it bit into his skin. Gavin hissed, biting his lip at the pain - but it was over in an instant as Midas turned the knife to his own hand. He clasped their hands together - sticky with blood, but very warm - and Gavin closed his eyes as he felt their strand of the bond swell and strengthen. 

“The token,” Midas breathed.

Gavin let go of him. He hesitated, but Midas was staring at him steadily and he’d gone too far to back out now. He slipped his scarf off from around his neck and held it out to the other man. Midas took it reverently, stroking the soft material for a moment. It was ragged by now - stained with blood and torn in places - it bore the scars of all their adventures just like Gavin did. But Midas stared at it as though it was some precious relic.

“Robin made this for you,” he observed, and Gavin’s heart clenched.  
  
“Apparently.”

“I will only need it to get through,” Midas assured him. He looped it around his own neck and Gavin felt a strange jolt at the sight. Midas turned towards him then, and the next thing Gavin knew he was holding out more of the gold chains from his treasury.

“May I?” he asked. “A king should have riches.”

Gavin inclined his head, and Midas stepped forward and fastened the necklaces around his throat. It felt strangely heavy - he’d never worn much jewellery - but he liked the weight. There was something reassuring about it. Even if he couldn’t wear his crown constantly, this felt like a similar reminder of his power. Of their alliance.

Midas stepped back, looked him up and down, and gave him a thumbs up.

"I’ll just get the last few things together,” he declared. “Then we can see if we’re ready to go.”

“Okay,” Gavin said. His heart was pounding, and he could hear an excited tremble in Midas’ voice, too. The other man hurried off into the castle, and Gavin walked over to the window and looked out.

Hoards of Wither were getting into formation. Gavin had seen them at a distance back in the Nether, but up close they looked even more sinister clad in golden armour, their violet eyes burning in their skeletal faces. 

There came a piercing shriek from outside, and he stepped back from the window as the Wither king rushed by. It’d been circling the castle since they returned from the forest, flying through the air and swooping between the towers like a restless spirit.

_Banshee,_ Gavin thought. Another myth come to life. The thing’s screams sent a chill down his spine, and for a moment he felt another flash of doubt. What if Midas didn’t have this under control?

He reached up and touched the reassuring weight of the necklace, forcing himself to push those thoughts aside.

_Together you have an army. Together your gifts are powerful._

_It’s time to show them all who you really are. Not just a thief, a fool, a lost boy from the streets._

_Kings._

 

* * *

 

Ryan stood at the edge of the Wild, shaking with anger as he stared down at the paper in his hands. Mica, standing before him, was pale, her lips pressed together tightly, something dark and worried in her eyes.

“My lord?” she whispered.

Ryan crumpled the paper in his hands. He looked at her, then at the city beyond. It was an overcast day and the capital was dark. Without redstone lights, he knew everyone had to be struggling, and felt nothing but a bitter, lurking satisfaction.

“Send word to the army,” he ordered. His voice came out startlingly soft. “When we attack this evening, I expect their support. Any who remain on Claudius’ side will be shown no mercy.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Mica said. She looked like she wanted to say something more, but the look on Ryan’s face stopped her.

“No more people can die,” he said.

Mica nodded. She bowed, then turned and hurried off. Ryan watched her leave. He was seething, the paper clutched tightly in his hands.

Three more had been executed since last night. Two of them were his most loyal servants from the castle. The third was a redstone engineer who’d refused to dismantle the golems.

People were scared of what was happening, yes - but they saw it as his fault. Claudius had continued to spread his lies - had maintained that Ryan had cut off the power and his loyal followers had refused to help turn it back on. He unfolded the paper in his hands, and looked down at it.

_THE MAD KING_. 

Another poster screamed the words. There it was, a scrawled image of him sneering, his eyes dark and glinting with anger. He was stained with blood, his crown cleaved in two, holding a dripping sword.

_Mad King._ He hadn’t been called that in a long, long time. Not since the games. It was a name that tied him to the rest of his family - a name that spoke of being a tyrant, violent and cruel. It was quite rich, he thought, with no real amusement, when Claudius himself was the one who was killing people here.

But things like this could spread, he knew - could get into people’s heads. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath.

_So he wants mad? I’ll show him mad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My playlist for Ryan in this story: [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/8ofhearts/blood-and-stone) / [youtube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnSkt6V3qF0&list=PLPN8AulG5DybL8ZAoTYZJ9cC4R6019G4l) <3


	14. Chapter 14

It was beginning to grow dark as Michael paced in a slow circle, sword raised, in the clearing behind the Wild castle. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, ready to pounce. Abruptly he lunged forward, and took three swipes at the stuffed straw dummy in front of him. Its two arms flew free, then its head.

He whirled around with a fierce cry, and stabbed another dummy through the chest. A third toppled towards him, and he seized it by the throat and hurled it through the air. It hit a tree at the edge of the clearing and crumpled limply to the ground. Had it been a real human, its back would’ve broken in an instant.

In the corner of his eye he thought he spied something in the trees. He spun to look - but nothing was there.

_Fuck,_ he thought, breathing heavily. It had sent a shock through him, and the empty, dark foliage was unsettling.

People used to say there were ghosts in the Wild. He knew better than to believe that now, but it still had him shaken. Maybe it had been a mob. Or Gavin, returning to the settlement.

_Or nothing. Just a trick of your eyes. You’re tired - you’re seeing things._

Still. It unsettled him, because it suddenly reminded him of how, as a boy, his father used to come and watch him train. He’d turn and find him standing, arms folded and eyes narrowed, occasionally nodding to himself. Michael had always worked harder to impress him, then. Even before he received his gift of strength, he’d still been a capable fighter. 

The best times were when his father had time to spar with him. Those occasions were rare, because he was so busy, but they were some of his fondest memories.

Michael missed him, suddenly, with a fierce ache - the sort of ache that didn’t go away, no matter how much time passed. What Ray said had annoyed him terribly, and he angrily smashed up the final dummy, slicing it to pieces before turning and marching back towards the castle.

_Barbaric_.

The Alpine citizens weren’t just stupid, meat-headed soldiers, and he was sick of people thinking that. He was also sick of being _tricked_. He’d really thought Claudius would show up to the meeting. He hadn’t, so Michael didn’t regret what had happened in that tent. If they’d behaved honourably, no one would’ve had to die.

This time, it was their turn to strike first.

But despite all his resolve, he was exhausted  and worried, and when he got back to the castle and spied Ray standing in the gardens, his stomach clenched. He didn’t like fighting with his husband. He was _angry_ , yes, but he hardly enjoyed it. Ray had always looked up to him, so his disdain, now, hurt even more.

One arm was still in a sling, but that wasn’t stopping Ray from being productive. Michael lingered by the castle, watching him wander through the herb garden. He was reaching out, brushing his good hand through the leaves as he passed. They thickened and blossomed, becoming healthy and full as he touched them until the entire garden was brimming with ripe, heavy plants. 

_Healing herbs. He’s preparing for injuries in the coming battle._ The thought made him uneasy, that Ray was resigned to this going ahead, but still clearly unhappy about it.

_He’s suited to bring life,_ Michael thought, watching as Ray tenderly stroked another plant. Even from here he could smell the rich, spicy scent of the herbs. _I’m suited for war. We used to balance each other out, rather than be set in conflict._

He bit his lip, upset. He wanted to go to Ray, but he was scared to. They’d yelled at one another so much earlier that he couldn’t bring himself to face him, now.

He was sweaty and tired from his exercise. There were several hours until they’d advance on the city - he needed to rest, and eat, so he left Ray behind and headed inside.

 

* * *

 

Michael had never seen the Wild castle so crowded. The armies sat at one side of the big hall, sitting at the tables or on the floor, their chatter echoing through the stone room. Alpine, Desert and Plains soldiers all mingling together, still getting to know one another despite their leaders’ dispute. Nothing would ever make these kingdoms _enemies_ , Michael knew. Not as long as the six of them were in charge. But right now he didn’t quite know how much he’d call them _allies_ , either.

He walked into the room, looking around for food, when he suddenly felt Jack reach out and gently nudge him through the bond. It was strong enough that the other man must be close by, and Michael turned to find him sitting at a table in the corner, away from all the men. It was dark and shadowy there, only a single stubby candle in the middle of the space. He was eating, and waved towards another plate next to him.

Michael felt rather uneasy as he moved to join him. It was one thing to be fighting with Ray - he already hated that. But Jack and Geoff were just as bad. Geoff because Michael looked up to him, and the idea that the other man might be _disappointed_ in him was deeply uncomfortable.

And Jack, because they’d gotten _close_ \- really close. To have this dispute so soon after finally being able to be together…

It was upsetting, and he felt oddly self-conscious as he approached the table. Jack looked up at him, his face shadowed in the dim light. His eyes were soft as always, but he wasn’t smiling. Michael wasn’t smiling, either. The tension made him ache.

“Eat,” Jack said, quietly. He pushed the spare plate towards him, and Michael sat opposite him. His appetite was gone- usually before a battle, he’d be raring to go, but now he felt nervous about what was going to happen. It was quite strange for him. Maybe because it wasn’t his kingdom at stake here, but Ryan’s. Maybe because everything recently had been moving so fast that it felt as if he didn’t rush to keep up he’d be swept away in the tides, left behind to drown.

Still. He made himself eat, noticing that Jack’s own meal was mostly untouched. The other man was staring over at the rowdy soldiers.

“Your men seem excited,” he commented.

His voice was so soft Michael couldn’t tell if he sounded disapproving. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“They always are,” he replied. “And before you start, I know what you’re thinking. That we shouldn’t be all happy about killing people. It’s not about that, alright? War is not fun, or beautiful. But I’m happy to defend _Ryan_. I care about him, and I protect the people I care about. My men are excited to prove their worth in combat. For some, it’s their first big fight. Maybe the young ones have the wrong idea, but they’ll soon learn.”

“Michael…”

“I know you’re pissed off,” he barrelled on. “So’s Ray. You can’t change my mind. It’s too late for that.”

Feeling rather righteous, he shovelled more food into his mouth, his bad table manners some juvenile display of defiance. Jack watched him in silence, and despite himself, Michael soon felt so awkward that he was the one to break it.

“Gav back yet?”

Jack shook his head, something strained flickering across his face for a moment.  
  
“No,” he replied, and bit his lip. “Not a sign of him. I’m getting worried that he may have done something… silly.”

Michael shoved his plate away angrily, more annoyance flashing through him.

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? Gavin’s not an idiot. I thought you trusted _all_ of us. Me, Ryan, Gavin-”

“Michael,” Jack said, voice tight, “Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to fucking-”

“ _Calm down_.” Jack put a hand over his on the table. Michael started to snatch it away, but Jack’s grip tightened, holding him in place. Michael realised his voice had risen, nearly yelling. He looked up and met Jack’s eyes angrily-

But at the sight of him, his anger faded. Jack looked just as worried as he did. Michael hated seeing that look on his face, and it was hard to stay mad when he could tell at a glance just how much Jack _cared_ \- and when it made him remember just how much he _loved_ the other man, and didn’t like to see him upset.

“I’m not happy about this,” Jack said, slowly. “I’m very, very worried about Ryan’s kingdom too. It goes both ways, Michael - don’t _you_ trust _us?_ Can’t you see that we really only want the best for you, for _everyone_ involved here? I’m scared people will get hurt.”

That made Michael deflate.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said, gruffly. “I can take care of myself.”

“Michael,” Jack chided. “Not all that long ago, you were bedbound for weeks.”

The reminder made Michael shift uncomfortably, especially when more pain flashed across Jack’s face as he continued.

“After losing Geoff, I can’t… I can’t go through that again. Even if we know how to get to the Nether now, there’s always a _chance_ it wouldn’t work. Seeing you so badly hurt…”

“I know,” Michael said, feeling a little guilty now. “And thank you for being there during that time. I do appreciate it. But Jack… these people we’re up against, they don’t play nicely. We’ll get hurt if we try and keep being so _honourable_. Sometimes you just need to show people that you can’t, _won’t_ be pushed around.”

“I hardly think anyone would try push the Alpine king around, what with your gift,” Jack began, but Michael snorted.

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered, and sighed. “I love you, Jack, but I don’t agree with you. It’s not personal.”

Admitting it was easier than he’d imagined, and he could tell from the way Jack’s face twisted that he was finding this tremendously hard as well. Michael pulled his hand back and turned to his food again, but Jack leaned towards him.

“Michael,” he insisted. “You are the key here. If you’re on our side, Ryan has no army. He won’t be able to go through with this.”

_What the fuck?  
  
_ For a moment, Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His head snapped up, shock - then more anger - flaring right back through him.

“Are you trying to turn me against him?” he asked slowly.

“Just _listen_ for a moment,” Jack pleaded, and that was answer enough. “We still have a chance to-”

“There’s no _fucking_ chance, Jack!” Before Michael knew it, he was yelling again. “When will you all get that through your fucking _heads?_ There is no _situation_ here where Claudius just gives up the crown! He’s made that perfectly clear!”

“Don’t shout,” Jack said. “Let’s discuss this-”

Oh boy, was Michael not in the mood to hear those words.

“Yes, let’s _discuss_ this,” he sneered, “Let’s discuss _everything_! Let’s discuss how to get him to just hand it back over and accept being banished! Let’s discuss how to make the public like Gavin when right now he’s probably one of the most hated people in all the kingdoms! Let’s discuss how to somehow _undo_ this with some _magic words!_ ”

He was leaning across the table now, screaming right in Jack’s face. The other man sat very straight, unflinching, but silent and pale.

“Unfortunately none of us have that gift! There is no _magic_ solution here, Jack!” He leaned in and clapped a fist to his chest so hard that it made Jack jump a little. “My gift is to _fight_ , so I will _fight_.”

“You are causing this war if you help him,” Jack said, softly.

“ _Good_ ,” Michael snapped. “Sometimes wars need to be fought. In my opinion, there’s no better reason than for _us_. But maybe you think differently.”

Jack stared at him, lips pressed together tightly. Michael realised that the room had gone very silent. All he could hear was his own harsh breathing. He turned to find the soldiers staring at the two of them, and realised how loudly he’d been yelling.

Anger made his cheeks heat. He glared at them.

“What?” he demanded. “Show good enough for you?”

The men turned awkwardly away. Michael turned to find Jack’s jaw clenched. Despite everything, he still hated being the one to put that look on his face.

At that moment, Geoff and Ray entered together. From the looks on their faces, Michael knew that they’d heard the commotion from outside. He stared at them, shoulders heaving, so angry he could barely think - then sat back down and began to vigorously stab the meat on his plate, cutting it with vicious strokes into little pieces. He may or may not have been picturing that it was Claudius’ face he was carving up.

Geoff and Ray approached the table. Michael felt them behind him, and lifted his head without turning.

“If you think ganging up on me can convince me to abandon Ryan,” he growled, “Don’t waste your time.”

They didn’t answer, but Ray suddenly sat next to him. Michael stiffened - the other man put an arm around his shoulders. Michael shrugged him off, but Ray wasn’t fazed. He touched Michael’s arm gently before slipping his arm around him again, turning him until they were facing each other.

“Michael,” he murmured, and put his hands on his shoulders. Michael met his eyes, and his anger faltered.

Gods help him, but he’d do anything for Ray. The other man was looking at him calmly, his eyes warm and gentle. Michael’s anger still simmered, but Ray’s calm spread across the bond, soothing him and settling him down. He smelled like herbs from the garden, like fresh roses, his face soft even if he looked tired.

“Michael,” he said again and reached up, cupping his cheek, thumb stroking gently across his skin. Michael closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the touch.

“Please,” Ray whispered. “If all else fails, we’ll fight. Of course we will, we _all_ will. If Claudius attacks us, we’ll defend ourselves. It’d be foolish not to. But Michael - what got us into this mess is our public image. You and Ryan already made it worse - I’m not blaming you,” he added, when Michael’s eyes snapped open, “I know you were angry about what they said. About you, about Ryan, about Gavin. But just wait. _One_ day. Please, just twenty four hours for us to try and talk to Claudius. You hold off for one day and Ryan will have to wait, too, and Jack and Geoff can try arrange this meeting. There’s no need to attack tonight. There’s no rush.”

Michael stared at him. Ray didn’t look angry, now, just pleading. He reached up and clasped Michael’s face gently, staring into his eyes.

Michael bit his lip. He glanced over at Geoff and Jack, who were watching earnestly now. Geoff, especially, who Michael had always admired. He clearly thought this was the best course of action.

He opened his mouth to say that he didn’t know-

But Ryan strode in, then. His face could only be described as _thunderous_. He looked around, spied them all gathered in the corner, and marched over.

“What’s the group meeting about, then?” he asked.

Michael could tell right away that something had pissed him off; he was _simmering_ with a dark anger that they could all feel immediately through the bond. Ray’s hands fell from Michael’s face; Geoff straightened up, warily.

“Ryan,” he said. Though his voice was soft and gentle, it also sounded cautious. “You don’t need to attack tonight. Give us one day - we have a chance to stop him, but even if it fails, at least our council will be happy, and you’ll look like the good guy.”

Ryan stared around at them all. Then, he began to laugh - harsh, jagged _cackles_ that sent a shiver down Michael’s spine.

“You still don’t understand,” he said, and shook his head. He was smiling, but it was tight and strained, like a skull’s permanent grin. Somehow that was worse than if he’d just looked angry. “Look like the good guy? The time for that is long over. To them I am the Mad King. And that’s who will march on the city tonight - while we still have the element of surprise! The redstone siege can’t last much longer without doing irreparable damage to the greenhouses. We don’t _have_ one day, Geoff.”

Geoff’s face shuttered over. Ryan regarded him, calmly, before turning to Michael.

“I’ll need your army.”

Michael nodded. He began to rise, but Ray’s hand suddenly tightened on his arm. Michael looked over at him, and despite everything, some little part of him was still surprised to hear Ray say, flat-out and deadly serious:

“Don’t do this.”

Ryan’s eyebrows rose. He looked at Michael, who stared back at him fiercely. He was on Ryan’s side, he knew that, and wouldn’t be moved no matter the others’ pleas. It felt good to commit to that one decision rather than let himself fall back into overthinking things. Ryan turned to Ray - then Jack and Geoff.

“We can’t support you,” Jack whispered.

“So that’s how it is,” Ryan said. He sounded calm, but Michael could see how tightly his fists were clenched.

“He’s right,” Michael spoke up. “We need the element of surprise. It has to be tonight.”

He shook Ray off, and got to his feet, moving to Ryan’s side.

Geoff suddenly reached out and grabbed a plate from the table. He threw it on the floor, shattering it - a vicious, abrupt little burst of outrage that made even Michael jump, surprised. He saw Geoff’s eyes burning and realised with a jolt that he hadn’t seen the other man so angry since Gavin betrayed him, that night back in the Wild that felt so long ago. He stared - but shook off Ray when he tried to reach out for him again, and followed Ryan out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Ryan was furious. That much became clear as soon as they retreated to his private chamber, where he slammed a hand viciously against the wall. A burst of redstone flared, almost blinding, but Michael didn’t flinch.

Ryan stood, fist pressed to the blazing stone, face turned away and shoulders heaving.

“It’s dark outside,” Michael spoke up. “In a few hours, we’ll march on the city. I’ll go tell my men to prepare.”

Ryan gave no indication that he’d heard, and Michael swallowed, stepping towards him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Ryan let out a long breath, still not looking up at him. More redstone crept along the walls, spreading in long, thin tendrils, like glass breaking in slow motion.

“The worst part is, they’re making me doubt myself,” he said, voice thick. “If they just supported this, I could go ahead and fight. Instead, although my resolve is strong, I’m left wondering if they’re going back to seeing me as the monster they used to believe me to be. Geoff, especially. He hated me, you know. I hated him. We got over it. But now I’m the Mad King once more. And I’ll wear it, I’ll _use_ it, the same way Gavin plays a role to get people to fear him. But the longer you wear a mask like that, the harder it becomes to draw the line between what’s real and what isn’t-”

He broke off abruptly. Michael felt terrible for him, and even more determined to _fix_ this.

“We end this,” he declared. “There’ll be pain, but once we _win_ we can heal. Like setting a bone. It hurts at the time, but you need to do it.”

Ryan nods. He was trembling with anger, and Michael stepped forward and gently touched his arm.

“You are no monster, Ryan,” he said. “You’re doing this for your people - and for us. I know the others can see that. They just disagree with the method. _I_ see that.”

Ryan nodded. He glanced at Michael, then looked away again, and Michael sighed heavily. He let his hand fall, and turned to go - when Ryan suddenly grabbed his arm and spun him back around. The next thing he knew, his back was hitting the wall, Ryan crowding up against him. Before he could react, the other man was leaning in, forcing him to tilt his head back to look at him - closer, closer, hesitating only when his lips were right before Michael’s.

Michael didn’t stop to think about it. He leaned in to kiss him, and Ryan’s previous intensity returned in an instant. The kiss was passionate, angry, his fingers digging into Michael’s arms roughly where he clutched him, pressing him against the wall so hard he knew he’d have bruises. But the faint pain was grounding - he put his hands on Ryan’s waist, but quickly brought them to cling to the front of his shirt instead when Ryan brought one hand up to curl in his hair, clutching so tight that it ached dully. The furious passion made his heart race - had him shaking, ready to fight, ready for _anything_. It was good, their mutual anger building up in the bond, fuelling them. He felt closer to Ryan than ever.

When they broke apart, Ryan’s hold on him gentled; he smoothed Michael’s hair down, glancing at him almost uncertainly - but seemed relieved to find his eyes blazing and angry, too.

“I’m not scared of how this will go when the Alpine king is on my side,” Ryan breathed, and Michael grinned at him.

“You will prove yourself before my men,” he replied. “They will support the Stoneworld unconditionally once your crown is back.”

It was nice to see Ryan smile again, even if it was a small one.

“Good,” he said, and stroked Michael’s arm tenderly before stepping back. “Go and get ready. I have some final adjustments to make on the few golems I salvaged. At midnight, we march on the city.”

 

* * *

 

Ray came to them that evening.

Jack was sitting next to Geoff in their bed. They’d just gone back in the Sight for yet another council meeting, and now as they emerged they looked at one another, exhausted and hopeless.

There would be no convincing the Plains to go with Ryan on this one, even if they’d wanted to. News of what had happened in the tent was already spreading, and people were not happy about the wanton slaughter, the breaking of peaceful terms.

_What if he turns on us next_ seemed to be the general sentiment. Jack and Geoff might trust Ryan, but they couldn’t convince the people to. Not yet.

Using the Sight so often lately had been draining. Jack felt stretched thin, and Geoff looked even worse. So they took a moment, now, just to rest, leaning against one another, not needing to talk.

And then came Ray, slipping into the room like a shadow. With his head down and his arm still bandaged, the way he glanced uncertainly up at them - despite his new beard, despite everything, he looked younger than ever.

“Ray,” Jack called out.

Geoff stirred next to him. He looked tiredly up at Ray - then held out an arm.

Ray shuffled over to the bed and Jack pulled him in to curl up between them, mindful of his injured shoulder. Ray still seemed stiff, a little hesitant to touch them - the three of them hadn’t spent quite as much time together as he had with some of the others.

But they were united, now, in this.

For a long moment they just sat, resting, in a glum silence. Ray slowly relaxed until he was leaning against Jack’s side, head cushioned on his shoulder.

“My men are restless,” he whispered, finally. “They’re unsure about this battle, but many of them want to support the Alps because of our alliance.”

“What will you do?” Geoff asked. Ray pulled a horrible face, and Geoff continued, “You’re king. It’s up to you. You might be married, but they’ll still answer to _you_ , not Michael.”

Ray’s scowl deepened. He reached up and rubbed absently at his shoulder.

“I’m just… so fucking annoyed by being forced to take a side, you know?” he said, sounding strained.

“It’s your decision,” Geoff repeated, and Ray’s face twisted miserably.

“I know,” he muttered, and glanced between them, eyes wide. “Help me?”

He looked so torn that Jack’s heart ached for him. He put his arms around Ray and hugged him, gently, one hand moving to stroke through his hair. Ray burrowed into him, and Jack met Geoff’s eyes over his shoulder. Once he might’ve been worried about the other man being jealous - now, Geoff just shifted closer until he could rub Ray’s arm as well.

It was nice, that little reminder that all of them were together. Through this. Through everything.

“We’ve just spoken to our own parliament,” Jack told Ray. “We _can’t_ support Ryan. We literally cannot do it without going against what everyone else in our kingdom stands for. I suppose we could force our will, but that’s not what a true king would do. But we won’t stand idly by, either. We will be here, ready to help if something goes badly wrong.”

“I think you may not quite be able to do the same,” Geoff added, and sighed heavily. “If you want my advice, Ray, support him. Your kingdom expects it. Jack and I won’t hold it against you. Support him - but make it very fucking clear that you’re not happy about it, and that if things go too far you’ll pull your troops back. Take the crown, yes, but there’s no need for any more mindless violence.”

“Mindless violence,” Ray muttered, unhappily. “Once I would never have thought I had to worry about that from _our_ side.”

“Hey,” Jack said, and rubbed his back. “Hey, it’s still _them_.”

“I know, but I really thought I could _convince_ him.” Ray pulled back and looked up at Jack. His eyes were red, and Jack remembered their first conversations during the games. How young and uncertain and _in love_ Ray had been, then, seeking any help at all, anyone to _listen_ to him about his problems with Michael. _Unrequited feelings. Those were more innocent times, when that was our biggest problem._

“And it’s terrible of me,” Ray continued, “But… I know we’re married, I know he loves me, but I still almost get jealous sometimes. And I was thinking, earlier, that if it had been Gavin there begging him not to do it… both Michael and Ryan would’ve listened to him.”

“I doubt that,” Jack began automatically, but Ray shook his head.

“No. You know it’s true.”

Jack bit his lip. If he thought about it - he had to admit, even he felt a slight pang of hurt at the thought that of all of them, Gavin would’ve been able to stop Ryan, at least, and Michael would’ve followed. He was soft for the Wild king. But still - he wasn’t here. It hadn’t come to that.

“Where is he, anyway?” Ray asked. “Ryan will want his mobs.”

“I don’t know,” Jack admitted - it’d been playing on his mind, but in all the commotion it was easy to forget things. “He’s not back yet. Aaron and Blaine went out to the temples to go and get him, but none of them have returned…”

He trailed off, exchanging a worried look with Geoff. There was little they could do; they didn’t have time to go traipsing off into the jungle. Gavin’s Wild friends were dealing with it.

Ray picked up on their unease. He looked down, the fist of his good hand clenching absently.

“I have a bad feeling about tonight,” he muttered. “I’ll do as you suggested, but still… I wish we could just _stop_ this.”

Geoff abruptly rose from the bed, striding across the room and bending to rummage in his bag. He picked up a bottle, uncorked it, and tipped his head back, beginning to drink with relish. Jack and Ray sat up in confusion, exchanging a glance.

“Geoff, hey,” Jack began. “Stop that!”

Geoff paused long enough to smack his lips exuberantly.

“I’m not getting drunk,” he drawled. “Don’t worry. Just a bit of liquid courage.”

“For _what_?”

He drank again, long and deep, then lowered the bottle with a sigh. Facing away from them, shoulders hunched, he looked like he was preparing for a battle of his own.

“Until they leave,” he murmured, “It’s not over.”

Jack and Ray looked at each other again, uncertain. Jack’s bad feeling was only growing.

“What are you planning?” he asked.

Geoff threw his head back and barked a short laugh.

“Nothing big or spectacular,” he said. “Sometimes, the simplest gestures mean the most.”

He paused. There was a commotion outside, heavy footsteps, shouting - and Jack realised the men were mobilising, everyone getting ready to march on the city. His stomach dropped. _So it really is beginning._

Geoff strode from the room without another word. He hadn’t said anything about any new plan, so Jack wasn’t sure what the fuck was happening - but he and Ray scrambled to their feet, and followed him out.

 

* * *

 

There was a great commotion outside as two of the armies present began to get ready to move. The Desert and Alpine generals shouted commands as they ordered people into position, splitting them into various groups. The Wild citizens were handing out creepersin cloaks to disguise the soldiers in the dark. It looked like an entire army of mobs slowly forming. 

The Plains men looked on uncertainly - they were preparing, too, just in case, but the riled up excitement of an oncoming battle wasn’t present with them, and it left an awkward tension.

Jack looked around for Gavin, but there was no sign of him. In the crowded masses of people it was hard to tell - he saw Dan rush past, and grabbed his arm.

“Gav back yet?” he asked, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt.

Dan shook his head.

“No,” he said, but must’ve seen the look on Jack’s face. He clasped his arm and leaned in close, looking him steadily in the eyes. “Don’t worry about it. I promise, he’s fine.”

Something in the way he said it made Jack frown. Maybe Gavin had told him something he hadn’t mentioned to the others. But he trusted Dan, and nodded, feeling a little of his tension ease. Dan clapped him on the arm before vanishing into the masses again.

Geoff had strode over to the front gate. Now, he leaned against the entranceway, still sipping from his bottle. Jack walked over to him, Ray trailing behind, and they regarded him with confusion.

“What are you doing?” Jack asked.

In the dim, flickering light of the torches along the wall, it was hard to read the expression on Geoff’s face.

“Y’know,” he replied. “Just standing here.”

“Geoff…”

“What? I’m just _standing_ here, is that illegal?” Geoff asked, and laughed. “Who’s gonna ask the king to move out of the way? And, you know, there’s plenty of room for you guys to stand here too.”

He swept his arm out and Jack looked at the narrow space. With Geoff blocking the way there was already limited room for the armies to move out. Funnel-necking them through such a small space would cause inefficiency and confusion.

“This is immature,” he said flatly, and Geoff shrugged.

“I’m making a point, Jack,” he said. “In a very asshole fashion, maybe, but it’s still a point.”

Jack stared at him. But then Ray, beside him, silently moved up and stood next to Geoff. He seemed unsure what to do with his hands, and eventually tucked them into his pockets. With both of them looking at him, Jack sighed, and after a moment he slowly joined the line.

“Attention!” one of the generals yelled, and all the soldiers straightened and fell silent in an instant as they turned to bow. Michael and Ryan were emerging from the castle and striding down the aisle between the soldiers’ neat ranks. Jack couldn’t help the way his breath caught a little at the sight of them.

It was the first time he’d seen Michael properly armoured. With his bearskin cape, his sword glinting magically at his belt, and his face streaked with red warpaint like blood… he looked dangerous. Fierce. Something wild to him - to his whole kingdom, each of his men with their own cloaks like a herd of beasts, fur and ears and horns rising in a myriad of terrifying shapes.

And then there was Ryan, by his side. Even in the Nether Jack had only seen him in a bit of leather armour. It’d been too warm for anything else. Now he was ready for battle, with his hair braided neatly back from his face. They were sneaking into the city, so his armour was still light, but in his demeanour and expression Jack could tell he was ready to fight. To kill, if need be. His eyes were steely and hard and it made Jack feel _guilty_ , suddenly. Ryan hadn’t asked for this. None of them had.

They strode between the ranks of the army, and the generals began to fall into formation behind them, leading the men towards the gate.

Geoff let out a heavy sigh. He pushed himself off the doorframe and walked to stand in the very centre of the gate. Jack moved to one side of him, Ray the other. The space was narrow enough that the line they formed blocked most of it.

Michael and Ryan began to frown. They walked right up to them, and stopped. Michael’s face was twisted in confusion - Ryan looked calm, but Jack could see the anger burning behind his eyes.

“You are in the way,” he said, flatly.

“Uh huh,” Geoff replied, and lifted his bottle, taking another indulgent swig.

Ryan’s jaw clenched.

“ _Move_.”

“Nah,” Geoff said.

Jack’s heart was pounding. He’d seen Geoff and Ryan face off before - _before_ , when they were rivals, enemies. Not now. Not after all that’d happened.

“Geoff,” Ryan said, with very forced patience. “You are not stopping us. This childishness will not change a thing.”  
  
“Oh, I’m not trying to change your mind. I’m just hanging out here in the doorway. And it’s not _your_ fucking doorway. It’s Gav’s. If he tells me to move, I’ll have to listen.”

“Then why don’t you make yourself fucking useful by going to find him instead of just causing a hassle for the rest of us?” Ryan spat.

“What the fuck, guys,” Michael added, “Are you just _trying_ to piss us off? What is this, revenge?”

“It’s not revenge, Michael,” Geoff said. The gentleness in his voice made Michael stiffen. “What you’re doing is a bad idea. I really want you to stop. Because I care about you, and I don’t want to see you make a mistake of this scale.”

“You’re repeating yourselves over and over,” Ryan snapped. “Get _out of the way_.”

“Someone come here and make me,” Geoff informed them, and lifted his chin.

Ryan and Michael looked at each other, incredulously. Behind them, the soldiers stared. The generals looked awkward and reluctant. Jack knew none of them would dare touch a king - especially Ray, who technically had some command over the Alpine warriors. It was strange, considering his own Desert army were part of the troop. He stood in the way of his very own men.

But Jack could see anger in the eyes of the _soldiers_ , too. He didn’t like that.

There was a long, strained pause. Then Michael and Ryan both stepped forward, closer to them, and for a moment - for a terrible moment - Jack could see what they’d come to. Facing off against one another, the three of them on one side, Ryan and Michael on the other, a deep _anger_ brimming between them.

“What do you hope to accomplish by this?” Ryan breathed. “To show me you’re serious? You’ve made your displeasure perfectly clear. I don’t _enjoy_ this. If you’re trying to rub salt in the wound, all you’re doing is attempting to make yourselves feel better.”

Geoff stared at him, and Ryan’s face clouded over. He stepped even closer, getting up in the other man’s personal space.

“Or do you just want to be obnoxious, _Geoff_?” he hissed. There was genuine venom in his voice, and it made Jack shiver. “Are we back to those childish games?”

Geoff stared up at him for a long moment. Then he flicked his bottle, sending a spatter of liquor onto Ryan’s chest.

Ryan’s eye twitched furiously, and Ray gasped a little. It was a mocking insult, but Ryan just tilted his head slowly.

“In front of our men?” he demanded. “Really, Geoff? Have I not lost enough face?”

“I want you to know what a big mistake you’re making,” Geoff said, quietly. “Why not just agree with us and unite us again?”

“Why don’t _you_ agree with _us_ and unite us again?” Ryan shot back instantly. “Gods above - get out of my fucking way. Right now.”

“Or what?” Geoff challenged.

Michael stepped forward with a growl. Geoff tensed - but Michael just grabbed him by the belt and lifted him with one hand. Geoff yelped in surprise - as though he weighed no more than a feather, Michael carried him easily to the side and dumped him unceremoniously on the ground. There came a great series of hoots and titters from the Alpine soldiers, and Jack saw Geoff’s face grow red. He was the one humiliated, now.

Michael turned to the others and put his hands on his hips. Despite the laughter behind them, he looked furious.

“I gotta fucking carry the rest of you?” he demanded.

Jack and Ray stepped aside in silence. Michael jerked a hand, angrily, and the lines of soldiers began to move again. Ryan strode ahead, leading them out without so much as glancing at the others. As the rest of them filed through the gates, Michael turned to them.

The cold fury on his face made Jack freeze. He’d seen Michael in a rage before - he was hot-headed and easily worked himself into a passion - but this was different. Deeper. Terrifying.

“You know what might’ve been nice?” he growled. “A _good luck_. Maybe a kiss in case something bad happens out there. Gods know we might not get another chance. But thanks, guys. Really feeling the love here.”

He whirled around and left without another word. Geoff’s shoulders slumped, and Jack bit his lip, feeling ill. That last part had hit hard - he reached out and grabbed Ray’s hand, then Geoff’s. They clung to each other as they watched the army file away, out the gates, helpless.

 

* * *

 

Ryan’s heart pounded as they approached the city, his anger tucked away in favour of a brutish determination. It was cold in the Stoneworld at night, but he felt like he was on fire. Without light, the city loomed above them like a black void against the night sky, blocking out the stars, only the weak flicker of the occasional torch visible along the walls.

“Gods,” Michael breathed next to him. “That fucking stinks.”

Ryan gave a tight smile. With the cover of darkness and their creeper-skin cloaks, they’d reached the city unseen from the East. Now, they crept to an opening in the wall where the castle’s refuse was dumped out into a deep pit in the ground. It stank like rotten food, off meat, human waste.

“I’m sure Geoff would be terribly amused by me crawling through the garbage to get back to my kingdom,” he couldn’t help saying, rather snidely.

Michael snorted, then gagged as he got another whiff of the smell.

“More like crawling through a toilet!”

“Well, that’s the last place anyone would want to be attacked. Come on.”

They headed for the doorway alongside the dump, moving as silently as possible. Above them, two torches flickered - guards approaching their area.

Firelight was weaker than redstone. Ryan knew the guards wouldn’t be able to see as well as they were used to. He nodded at Michael, who raised a hand.

Two Alpine soldiers raised their bows. A quiet _thunk_ ; two stilted cries - then the bodies toppled from the ledge above them, landing heavily in the garbage.

Ryan looked down. His stomach clenched. One guard was a mercenary, hired by Claudius - the other was one of his usual army. He wasn’t sure where her loyalties had lain - they simply hadn’t been able to take the chance.

_Disappointment_. That was what had hurt the most - the look on Jack’s face as they all stood against one another - a deep rift in what he’d once thought an unbreakable bond.

He shook it off. They moved on.

 

* * *

 

Ryan’s people on the inside had informed him that the golems they’d de-activated were being kept in a storage shed near the waste dump.

Michael tore the door off its hinges, and Ryan walked in - each step lit with a flare of redstone, leaving a trail like blood wherever his feet touched.

In the red glow, the golems looked like a pile of broken corpses, dumped unceremoniously in a pile with their limbs tangled together. Fresh ire pulsed through Ryan to see all his hard work, his great accomplishments, discarded like common trash.

He closed his eyes and called on his gift - from beneath him, more redstone spread towards the golem pile. He felt it link to the circuits in the soles of their feet and bring them back to life.

One pair of red eyes blinked on - then another, and another. Slowly, they untangled themselves from one another and rose, moving to stand in a neat line.

Ryan stepped forward, pressing his hand tenderly to the nearest golem’s chest. The metal was slowly growing warm, pulsing with power.

“All good?” Michael asked, behind him.

Ryan turned. He could see the awe - and fear - in the eyes of the men crowding in the doorway.

“Starting to feel like a king again,” he replied, and felt a slow grin spread across his face.

 

* * *

 

They hurried through the dark streets of the city, each squadron taking a different route so they could move as quietly as possible. Ryan and Michael stayed together, leading half a dozen men down the main road towards the inner city and the castle.

These outer suburbs were where the poorer citizens lived - many of them miners, or workers in the mushroom farms. It was less heavily guarded than the more affluent parts of the city - but it still felt strange to be creeping through his own kingdom like a thief, to see familiar streets and buildings as places where enemies might lurk. For his home to have become a battlefield.

Pale faces peered through the windows as they passed - people realising something was going on and lighting lanterns, glancing outside before quickly hurrying in again. Ryan saw a few of them recognise him, their eyes widening.

His heart pounded. Until now, part of him hadn’t quite realised just how desperately he sought his people’s approval. A few of them looked afraid - but others smiled, or bowed, before slipping inside. No hue and cry, no running for the guards. It fuelled his determination as they moved on through the night.

 

* * *

 

They were almost at the middle district when a great commotion started up in the distance. Pausing, the group’s heads twisted, looking around - torches lit up in the night beyond, the sounds of running feet and yelling echoing through the streets.

The golems were doing their work, he thought with satisfaction. He’d sent them to distract all the guards who were already out patrolling the city. Claudius’ army was already mobilised - he was expecting them, after all - but drawing them all to one side of the city as though there was an attack on the wall would put them on the defensive, unaware that Ryan’s forces were actually already inside and letting them slip into the castle unimpeded. The potions of invisibility hadn’t worked out; it would've been too confusing for their own men if entire army was invisible, so this was the next best solution.

“I wish Gavin was here,” he muttered. “We could use his mobs.”

“I can feel him,” Michael reassured him. “He seems fine.”

“ _Too_ fine,” Ryan pointed out - he kept reaching out and prodding at Gavin through the bond only to find him completely, unnaturally steady, just the way he had been before they learned to feel _more_ in one another. Present, but nothing more. “Too stable. He was meant to _be_ here.”

“Don’t think about it now. We have too much to worry about already.”

He reached out and pressed Ryan’s arm, and finally Ryan nodded. They continued down the road, only to freeze when voices rang out ahead of them.

“Careful!” Michael hissed, and they raised their swords, retreating to the sides of the street. As they stood in the darkness, Ryan’s heart raced. Somehow, it felt different to fight human men than it did to fight the creatures of the Nether or the End.

A platoon of soldiers, headed for the gate, rounded the corner only to skid to a halt when they found themselves facing the soldiers of the Alps and Desert - stepping from the shadows like slinking wild animals, blades glinting. A few took a step back when they noticed Ryan - and Michael, his teeth bared, infamous sword raised and sparkling in the torchlight.

“King Ryan!” the leader of the squad cried, tremulously. He was one of Ryan’s original guard, Ryan noticed. They all were. No mercenaries here - Claudius must’ve kept those hired swords closer to him since he knew he could trust them.

He looked across the soldiers, staring at him in shock and trepidation. Familiar faces - Mica would’ve known them all.

Ryan stepped forward, and saw them all stiffen. He tilted his head.

“Pick your side,” he said simply. 

The group glanced at one another. Some looked down - a few lowered their swords - but one let out a sudden, fierce yell, and swung her blade towards him. She must have been a follower of his mother’s old generals that he’d never quite managed to get rid of, Ryan thought, and met her sword with his, a ringing _clash_ of metal sending sparks flying into the night air.

With that, all hell broke loose.

Half the soldiers set upon them - the others turned against their fellows. In the dark, with so many people, it was hard to tell who was on what side. Ryan parried the blows that flew towards him and began to back away to the side so he could tell who he was actually _fighting_.

The streets sang with the clash of blades, yells of pain, the wild whooping calls of the Alpine warriors. Michael, a terror, launched into action. Fuelled by the same rage as back in that tent, he charged forward and immediately began to decimate anyone who came within reach of his blade. A few men dropped their swords and raised their hands, surrendering just at the sight of him.

The men who’d turned on them fell quickly, the others retreating and fleeing or surrendering. Against not only the Alps and Desert but their own fellow men, they had little chance of winning.

Those soldiers who’d helped them turned, panting, their swords dripping blood. A dozen more to add to his own band, Ryan noticed with satisfaction. They turned to him - and fell to their knees, sending another thrill through him.

“My king,” the captain who’d first spoken breathed out. He was trembling, and Ryan was moved. He strode over to him and clasped his arms, drawing to his feet and clapping him on the shoulders.

“Your loyalty will be rewarded,” he said, and smiled. The man looked shocked - but hesitantly smiled back. He waved a hand and his troops moved to join them as they headed deeper into the city.

Around them, more fights were breaking out in the distant streets as the other groups began to encounter resistance. Yells, screams, thuds - the beginnings of battle, the citizens in the houses they passed locking their doors and bunkering down inside-

 

* * *

 

They reached the inner bailey only to find there was already fighting going on along the wall that separated the rich districts of the city. Groups of their soldiers were being pushed back by a massive horde of Claudius’ mercenaries. It was looking grim - they were pinned down in the lower city.

“Shit!” Ryan heard someone yell as they approached. He saw the soldiers up ahead duck back as a volley of arrows rained down on them. More mercenaries were pouring from the castle - they had the advantage of height, as the city sloped around a natural incline in the land, and the lower ground was not the ideal layout for them to be fighting from.

Michael grabbed his arm.

“I’m gonna have to stay down here!” he called. “They need me. You okay to go in alone?”

Ryan gave a quick nod.

“I’ll be fine.”

“My men can go with you if you-”

“No, one person will draw less attention.” He straightened up, teeth pulling back in something between a grin and a grimace. “I can handle Claudius.”

Michael stared at him for a moment, but then nodded. He was still holding onto Ryan, seeming reluctant to let him go.

“If you need me, pull on the bond and I’ll come,” he said, and Ryan’s smile this time was more genuine.

“I know you will,” he replied, softly. “Stay safe, Michael.”

“You too.” Michael’s hand fell from his arm. He began to turn - then abruptly spun back around and grabbed Ryan again, pulling him into a quick, fierce kiss. When they pulled apart Ryan could only stare at him for a moment, flabbergasted - Michael in his bearskins with his war-paint smudged over his face along with drying specks of blood. Michael who he’d once looked down on, thought common and brutish - who he now realised, with a thrill, that he _loved_.

Michael grinned. He reached up and wiped a smudge of paint from Ryan’s face before pulling back and turning towards the wall. He led his men off with a roar to join the fray. Ryan watched him go - watched them _all_ go, leaving him standing alone in the empty street. He took a deep breath - then turned and looked up at the imposing structure of the castle, the place he’d grown up in - once a home, now a fortress to infiltrate. 

He adjusted his grip on his sword, and slipped away into the city, on his own private mission.

_Reclaim the crown._

 

* * *

 

The castle was dark, and surprisingly empty. Ryan wondered where Claudius was as he strode through the staff hallways that the servants used to carry food, laundry and rubbish between the kitchen areas. He’d be awake by now, so Ryan couldn’t catch him by surprise like he’d hoped to - enter the master bedroom, lock the door, have it out with him one-on-one.

Still - it was worryingly dark, most of the halls unlit even by regular torches. It didn’t matter to him. He kept a blaze of redstone ahead of him so he’d see anything approaching.

The dark hallways reminded him of nightmares he’d used to have, shortly after his mother died. He’d walk out of his room and see her standing there, watching him. Either back from the dead - or a ghost. He was scared to look in the mirror for a while; the similarities in their features made him uncomfortable, and at a glance it sometimes seemed like it was her face in the glass.

Now, with a shiver, he entertained the thought of her appearing behind him again. Emerging like a zombie from the darkness, the wound Geoff had struck her still dripping blood. Coming back, again and again and again. A reminder that her ghost always hung over him and he’d never be free of it.

He shook it off - but couldn’t help looking over his shoulder just in case. Nothing but the dark corridor stretched out behind him.

_Gavin said she was turned to gold. She’s gone now - for good this time._

He shook himself, refocusing on the task at hand. If the crown was still where he’d kept it, it’d be in his own rooms, in a locked chamber behind the wall. But no doubt Claudius had moved it - still, he’d check.

He reached the stairs, only to pause. He could hear footsteps shuffling up ahead. A creak of that one particular floorboard on the landing above.

_They think to ambush me,_ he realised, and gave a tight smile.

Even if he’d cut the power, the redstone lights were still on the walls upstairs. He got halfway up and then paused, letting all the light around him fade until it was pitch black. If he focused, he could hear breathing in the darkness. Then he drew on his power - and let loose.

All the lights on the landing flared so brightly that a few of the circuits exploded, sending sparks flying. There were screams from above - it was so bright they’d been blinded. Ryan charged up the stairs, sword swinging. The redstone didn’t affect him as much, he’d worked with it so often, and he could see dark figures around him.

He cut through two men, wrenching his sword free from their bodies with a spatter of hot blood, swinging it around to stab another in the throat as they raised their sword towards him. In the flashes of red and blinding white, the darkness that fell between - his heart raced as he spun around, lashing out at every figure. He’d never fought like this, never felt like it in his life. He wondered if maybe this was how Michael found battle; the other man’s exhilaration and adrenaline pumped steadily through the bond like a drug.

Three more men came at him, but their skills were unrefined - mercenaries used to brawls and skirmishes, not trained fighters. Ryan parried the blows easily, sending one’s sword skittering to the side, cutting another’s hand clean off before slitting his throat.

By now the light had faded to a dull glow. He looked around, breathing heavily.

Only four men were left standing. They’d backed up - surrounding _Claudius_ , who was standing with two other councillors behind him.

He looked afraid, and Ryan’s face twisted into a sneer. How he _loathed_ the old man - he’d been close to Tamora, and had an ugly look about him, something unsettling about his pale, watery eyes and the sharp lines around his mouth. It was a face Ryan’d seen scoffing and sneering at the citizens of the lower city, seen staring hard-eyed at executions. A face that had always been hanging around his mother, fawning and preening.

“Claudius,” he said.

The soldiers closed in around him protectively, but Ryan just laughed, stepping forward, sword raised.

“Did you really think this would succeed? Did you really think stealing the crown would go over well? That’s not how it works.”

Claudius swallowed. Even if he looked ready to shit himself, his voice was remarkably calm as he replied.

“Whoever puts on the crown is king,” he said. “That is the _only_ rule. You’re one to talk about stealing the crown!”

“I-”

“You might be part of the bloodline,” Claudius spat, “But I know what you did to her! I’ve _always_ known. And the people know too, now.”

Ryan stiffened, a horrible coldness spreading through him. Claudius laughed.

“That’s right. Mad King Ryan, the man who killed his own _mother_. I’ve told them all the truth, and it’s spread. So you can sit here on your throne of lies, consort with the other kings all you want… we all know what you are inside.”

Ryan stared at him, eyes blazing with hate. Claudius leaned towards him, as far as he could with the soldiers still standing in a defensive line before him.

“Murderer,” he hissed. “Liar. You are no more a king than that creature who took the Wild crown.”

For a moment, Ryan was furious. Then he forced it away into a cold, hard calm.

“You can drag Gavin into your arguments all you want,” he said. “It won’t change the fact that what you’ve done here is treason. I gave you the chance to surrender. My mercy does not extend so far as to give you a second offer.”

He moved forward. The soldiers raised their swords, ready to fight him - when suddenly running footsteps rang out. Ryan turned to see more guards - at least two dozen - coming from either side of the stairs. Claudius began to laugh, and Ryan realised they were dragging a struggling figure with them.

He spied fur, and his heart clenched as for a moment he thought it was Michael. Then they came closer, and he realised it wasn’t.

It was Jeremy.

His sword was gone, and four guards had a tight grip on his arms. When he continued to struggle, one of them punched him across the face. He went limp for a moment, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.

“We captured one of the Alpine soldiers earlier tonight,” Claudius said with a sneer. “How nice that you have King Michael on your side! A shame he’s already lost quite a few men fighting your fight for you.”

Jeremy looked up at him, and Ryan stared back. He’d barely interacted with him before, but he knew he was one of Michael’s favourite men, one he’d gone through training with. But to Ryan - he was no one. He still felt sick at the thought of what might be about to happen.

“How loyal are the Alps to _you_?” Claudius continued. “How would this man feel, dying for King Ryan? How many are you willing to sacrifice?”

“You think Michael would take _your_ side in this?” Ryan demanded, but Claudius scoffed.

“Of course not. But I’m curious how cold-blooded you really are.” He waved a hand, and in an instant there was a blade at Jeremy’s throat. “We will kill him if you don’t surrender now.”

Ryan swallowed. His heart was pounding, still clutching his own sword in a fierce grip.

“If you’re so _good,_ ” Claudius taunted, “Surely even one innocent life should be too many. Then again, I’m sure you killed some of your own army coming in here. And you had no problem turning the power off-”

Before he could even finish his sentence, Ryan sent the redstone blazing again to blind them all. He leaped towards Jeremy and managed to strike out at two more soldiers, sending them tumbling to the ground, bleeding - but the others hauled Jeremy back, wrenching the sword harder against his throat.  
  
“Stop or he dies!” Claudius yelled.

Ryan froze, letting the light die down again. His chest was heaving - he felt furious, _trapped,_ like an animal surrounded at the end of a hunt. Frantically he reached out and pulled at the bond - he felt Michael respond, but they had no _time._ Claudius was watching him, expectantly.

_Come on. Think of a way out of this-_

_There isn’t one. And you can’t let him die. You know you can’t._

He slowly crouched and put his sword on the floor, but didn’t quite let go of it yet.

“Release him now, or I can’t guarantee you’re not lying,” he said, hate simmering in his voice.

Claudius thought about it, then nodded. Ryan looked up and met Jeremy’s eyes.

_Get Michael,_ he thought - he could see the other man was thinking the same thing, and suddenly knew he could trust him to lead Michael back here. Not to just leave Ryan behind. That was a strange feeling, too - trusting someone he barely knew just because he knew Michael did.

The soldiers slowly released Jeremy. He pulled free - but it wasn’t until Ryan let go of his sword and took a step back that they moved out of the way and let him run off down the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight, Ryan snatched his sword back and let the redstone flare bright again - but it was too late. Soldiers who’d moved up behind him struck him on the back of his head, and his gift faltered as he fell forward, dazed. Rough hands hauled him upright and wrenched his arms behind his back, tying them tightly.

Ryan struggled furiously, stamping his feet and sending more bursts of burning redstone around them. But they just hit him again, sending colourful spots dancing across his vision, and the next thing he knew there was a blade at his own throat. He fell still, breathing heavily, head spinning.

Claudius was smiling.

It was his particularly awful smile - closed mouth, glistening lips, doughy face stretching into creases around his chin.

“Take him,” he ordered. “Seal off the inner bailey. This won’t take long, but are the Alps and the Desert still being held off?”

“Yes, my lord,” one of the soldiers said.

“Then we have time.” He turned to the councillors behind him, watching nervously. “Fetch the crown! Ring the bells! Let’s go.”

Ryan had no idea what was happening. He could only hope that Michael came with his forces soon. Maybe, he thought rather angrily, the _others_ would even deign to come. If they were monitoring the bond, they’d’ve felt his panic, his anger, his _desperation_ by now. He wondered what they thought of _that_.

And then, of course, his thoughts drifted to _Gavin_ , because some Endermen teleporting in would be rather helpful right about now.

_Where are you?_ he thought, and reached out to him. He expected nothing but that void blankness - but instead, he felt him flaring back, _responding._

Confusion. Questioning. _Ryan?_

Ryan’s heart leapt. He send back panic and fear, hoping Gavin would realise he was in a fix and come to help him.

_Reassurance,_ Gavin sent back almost immediately, and Ryan felt a stab of relief.

_He’s coming._

That made him feel better, even as the guards hit and kicked at him - he focused on the bond, on Gavin now that he was _back_ from whatever had been going on - even as they dragged him away.

 

* * *

 

The square in the upper city was lit by flickering torchlight as the guards dragged Ryan out onto the raised stage. The first thing he saw were the pale faces of the nobility. Just about every person in this part of the city must’ve been gathered in front of the stage; a massive crowd of them stretched to the very edges of the square. Many were still in their nightclothes with cloaks draped over their shoulders, clearly summoned from their beds by Claudius and the town bell. They seemed startled, flinching at the sounds of the fighting coming from the wall.

Some were on Claudius’ side, Ryan knew. Perhaps _many_ were; they stood to benefit. But not all of them.

The next thing he saw was the noose.

His heart dropped at the sight of the gallows, on one side of the stage. They weren’t usually set up, and he realised with a sinking feeling that Claudius must’ve been _planning_ this.

He began to struggle again, but another blade was pressed to his throat. The platform under him was made of wood, and he was bound with rope - his gift was useless without stone to transform. He reached out through the bond, brushing against Gavin and Michael. _Panic. Hurry._

Michael’s anger and stress flared back at him - cut off by a momentary flash of _pain_. Clearly he was trapped in the lower city still, fighting, and had sustained some minor injury while distracted.

Gavin just sent back more _reassurance_. He seemed surprisingly calm, and Ryan let that soothe him as he was dragged up to the top of the stand.

He gazed down at the sea of faces below him, and for a moment he burned with humiliation. Here he was, bound and helpless in front of his own _citizens_ , who stared up at him with wide eyes. Some seemed horrified - others’ eyes held a smug satisfaction. He took note of _those_ faces for later.

“What the fuck?” someone in the audience yelled, suddenly. Heads turned towards an old man, struggling through the crowds towards the stairs.

Claudius had emerged from the castle too, now - and another councillor was hurrying up onto the stage. Ryan realised with anger that they were holding the crown.

“Citizens of the Stoneworld!” Claudius hollered. His voice echoed through the square, raised above the noises of the ongoing battle. “We have found the traitor Ryan Haywood! He was attacking the city with the help of the other kings. Even now, the Alpine and Desert soldiers run rampant through the streets, killing and pillaging! This is what your _king_ has done - sold out _our country_ just to please his new consorts!”

“By the gods, Claudius,” the old man interrupted. He had reached the stage by now, and two guards were moving to block his way. “You’ve gone too far!”

Claudius turned to him. Annoyance flashed across his face.

“How so?” he sneered.

“You cannot _hang_ him, for heaven’s sake,” the old man snapped. “He’s only doing this because _you_ stole the crown, _you_ led a coup - he brought us the golems, an alliance with the other kingdoms… for the first time in centuries we don’t need to fear the Wild! You are bringing the wrath of the other four kingdoms upon us! You can’t hang him,” he repeated, “He is our king. He is Tamora’s son and the blood heir-”

_"Tamora_!” Claudius bellowed. “You want to speak about Tamora? He _murdered_ her! And murder and treason are both crimes punishable by death.”

A low murmur spread through the crowd. Claudius marched to the edge of the stage and brandished his torch.

“Who else would speak for him?” he demanded.

A long silence. Then a woman in the crowd raised her hand.

“The crown is his,” she said, firmly. “Return it and stop this nonsense.”

“You said he’d work in the mines as an engineer,” another man called out. “Nothing about an _execution_!”

A few heads were beginning to nod. Claudius did, too, pacing up and down the stage with his hands clasped, seemingly deep in thought.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

Then, he turned to the guards and snapped, “Seize them.”

Screams and horrified murmurs broke out as the soldiers marched into the crowd, shoving people aside until they reached the two who’d spoken. They grabbed them, and dragged them up to the stage where they were forced to their knees alongside the old man.

“Claudius,” he began, but Claudius just waved a dismissive hand. His guards slit their throats in an instant.

A woman _screamed_ in the crowd; a piercing, shrill cry that was lost in the night among the clamour of the battle nearby. The crowd gasped in horror, and there was a great commotion as people backed up, trying to get away - but they couldn’t; the square was packed and surrounded by guards. 

“Anyone else?” Claudius yelled.

Ryan felt cold all over at the sight of the wanton slaughter - people who had supported him, people he’d known in the city. The man had been a lawyer, the woman had worked in the city library…

And now they were dead, and it was Claudius’ fault-

_(Your fault-)_

The crowd fell silent, grim and upset. Even those who had looked with satisfaction at Ryan on the stand seemed pale and shocked.

Claudius himself looked like the cat who’d gotten the cream. He motioned the guards to continue, and they began to drag Ryan towards the noose.

_Trust the others. They’re coming. You trust them. You_ trust them, they’re coming-

As much as he repeated the words to himself, he had to fight not to panic as he was shoved up onto the stand and the noose was pulled tight around his neck. He remembered his mother, strangling him with the cord; her iron-strong grip, the horrid irony of how she was the one who had him on the brink of death-

The noose pulled tighter. He choked a little, and felt a rising fear as the guards stepped back away from him. He struggled against the ropes, but only managed to make his wrists bleed.

“Ryan Haywood!” Claudius bellowed. “For crimes against the Stoneworld, I hereby sentence you to death. I will take over as your successor.”

He took the crown from the councillor and lifted it up. The reddish light glinting from the ruby gemstone at the front of the crown lit his face up with a hellish glow.

Ryan sent a wave of negative emotions through the bond, desperate by now. 

_Anger,_ Michael sent back,   _frustration_ \- he was still stuck.

Jack and Geoff and Ray reached out to him now, desperately - but there was nothing they could _do_ , not as far away as they were, and even in his anger and annoyance with them… all Ryan could do, now, was send the force of everything he felt towards them back through the bond, fearing it might be his last chance. _Love. Affection. Regret._

_I’m sorry._

“Now!” Claudius yelled.

The trapdoor flung open beneath him, and he plummeted through. His stomach dropped, but the worst part was the tightening of the rope around his throat. In a second, his air was cut off and he was left choking, _choking_ , wriggling desperately like a fish caught on a hook, nothing around him but pitch blackness.

Images danced across his vision, colourful spots that he now thought formed vague shapes. The flames and lava of the Nether. Gavin’s startling green eyes. A circle formed by six bodies. If this was what people meant when they said your life flashed before your eyes, it was certainly something-

Then, abruptly, he felt himself fall again, and hit the ground-

The pressure around his neck eased. 

The rope was still pulled tight, but not like it had been before. It had slackened, felt loose now, and he realised that something had cut through it. He choked, gasping for air, kneeling there in the stinking hay in the space below the gallows.

It was so dark he couldn’t see a thing, trapped in this little pit - but he could hear distant yelling from up above, and screaming. It took him a moment to recover enough to try and figure out what was happening. As his mind cleared and his breathing eased, he realised he could hear fighting, and the crowd trying to get away.

_Michael,_ he thought. _He must’ve broken through. Cutting it fucking close!  
  
_ He realised that the ground below him was stone, and lit it up with his gift. In the dim light he saw another shard of rock nearby, and scrambled towards it. 

His hands were still bound behind his back, but he took the stone in them and heated it with redstone until it was white hot, then used it to cut through the ropes. He burned his hands as he went, but couldn’t care less. His relief was overwhelming and he only realised once his arms were free and he reached up to yank the noose off and rub his face that there were sticky tears streaming down his cheeks.

_Time to get the fuck out of here._

He had no weapon, but clutched at the redstone shard as he straightened up. There was still a piece of rope swinging down through the trapdoor where it’d unravelled upon being cut, and he hauled himself up and onto the stage-

Where he froze, staring out at the city.

Dawn was coming. In spring the sun rose early, and the sky was lit with a weak, pinkish light, growing brighter every minute that passed. The crowds had pressed to either side of the town square, shaking and terrified, leaving a wide aisle down the middle. Ryan turned to look at it, and it was then that he realised it was not Michael who had saved him.

A procession of gold-clad Wither, holding bows and swords, were marching down the road towards the stage. They were firing arrows at the soldiers Claudius was sending towards them, and every man was falling before getting anywhere near them.

At the head of this horrid army strode Midas. Ryan recognised him immediately because he was wearing the most ridiculous crown he’d ever seen; it was tall and pointed and covered in embellishments. Maybe it was his oxygen deprivation, or the weak light, but somehow it was still impressive - the golden armour the man was entirely encased in, making him look like he’d stepped straight from the gorgeous illustrations of the books of myth back in the library.

And Gavin walked by his side.

For a moment, Ryan almost didn’t recognise him. When he did, his breath caught in his throat.

He’d only ever really seen Gavin dressed in his creeper-skins, or travelling gear. Now he wore golden armour over his regular clothes, and more jewellery sparkled at his throat and wrists. His hair was swept back with the Wild crown, the skull’s green eyes glinting beautifully to match Gavin’s own, and he held a gold sword instead of his usual knife. His head was held high, chin lifted confidently, and by Midas’ side, he looked like a prince. 

Following them were not only the Wither but a horde of mobs - spiders were scuttling over the walls, causing the people to scream and panic even more. Endermen were spawning left, right and centre, and in the distance Ryan heard the explosions of creepers. An intense emotion that he couldn’t quite place washed over him, and he leaned against the support stands of the gallows, staring out at them.

He should have been horrified by the sight of Midas, released from his prison. And indeed, some fear lurked beneath, some deep, disturbed sense that this wasn’t _right_ , that nothing good could come of it.

But he’d nearly just _died,_ and the relief was still overwhelming. Right now all he could do was stand, transfixed, as they approached the stage.

Claudius was cowering back behind his guards, clearly confused. Midas began to stride up the stairs, and the guards dithered, seeming unsure if they should confront him or not. They must have recognised Gavin, but they probably didn’t know who the fuck this other guy was.

Suddenly, a horrifying _screech_ rang out. Ryan jumped a mile - everyone clapped their hands over their ears, crying out as a shiver ran down their collective spines. Ryan knew that sound anywhere - both beasts had made it.

A dark shape shot up into the dawn sky from somewhere beyond the city. He could only make out a black shape, its arms spread like wings, with three heads - then it screamed again, and swooped around the city. There was something unsettlingly human to its shape, but it left a tattered trail of darkness behind it, like some enormous bat.

Its shriek seemed to make the ground under them tremble. The humans stood, stricken, staring fearfully at the sky and the army of monsters that’d sprung up around them. Midas moved to the centre of the stage and stared around at them all. He was grinning - Ryan was close enough to see - and as he watched, the man spread his arms out and threw his head back.

“Behold!” Midas boomed, “The return of the Gold King!”


	15. Chapter 15

Gavin had spent most of his life as a performer. He wasn’t really one for stage fright, but since he’d become king and started going to the Stoneworld to research the Nether with Ryan, he’d started to get anxious about everyone staring at him. Knowing what they whispered, knowing what they all _thought_ of him - as a fool he was invisible when he wasn’t doing a show. As a king, the whole world was his stage.

But not now.

Now, as he stared out at the crowds, Midas by his side, everyone’s eyes wide with fear - he felt nothing but powerful.

He could see them starting to recognise him, but none of that previous contempt was in their eyes. Wearing his golden armour and crown, with the banshee screaming overhead and his monsters surrounding the square, all of them turning to him obediently for orders - there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was very much in control of the situation here.

He remembered with a thrill the first time he’d put on the crown, how for once in his life he’d felt unstoppable. _Free_ , for the first time in a long time.

That same exhilaration was pulsing through him now. As they walked up onto the stage, he turned and saw Ryan, leaning against the gallows and staring at them with wide eyes. His shoulders were heaving as he gasped for breath, and Gavin rushed to his side.

“Ryan!” he cried. “Ryan, are you okay?”

His heart had dropped when they entered the square to see the other man falling through the trapdoor, hanging - he’d had a draugr fire an arrow at the rope immediately to cut it. Now as he drew closer, he could see how Ryan’s throat was dark with bruises. He was bleeding from somewhere on his head. But he reached for Gavin and pulled him into a tight hug, heedless of the crowds staring at them. Gavin squeezed him back, and reached up to clasp his face when they pulled apart.

“He tried to kill you.” There was something hard and protective in his voice.

“Of course he did.” Ryan’s voice was barely a rasp. “But you came back…”

He trailed off, gazing over Gavin’s shoulder at Midas, and Gavin’s heart pounded as he felt the flickers of suspicion, anger, _fear_ in the other man’s mind through the bond. He stroked Ryan’s cheek until the other man’s eyes flicked back to his.

“It will all be fine now. He’s here to help us.” It was strange for him to, now, to be the one reassuring the others. Ryan didn’t seem convinced, staring at Gavin like he was mad - but before he could answer, Midas began to speak again. The two of them turned, still holding each other, to look at him.

“Seeing as you are holding the crown, I presume you are Claudius,” Midas boomed, striding towards him.

Claudius stared back at him. He’d backed up, a few brave soldiers still surrounding him, though most of them were eying the Wither and the mobs with suspicion. He clutched the crown to his chest, looking ready to piss himself. Just a frightened old man now, face so pale he looked like a wax statue. Gavin could feel how the Endermen stared at him, too, with the same hatred they’d used to hold for Ryan. Any lingering doubts he’d had about this vanished. This was a bad man, as bad as Tamora. Whatever happened next, he’d surely had coming to him.

“Yes,” Claudius replied finally, his voice shaking a little. “And who the hell are you?”

“Who am I?” Midas demanded, and roared with laughter as he turned to the crowds, arms spread wide. “Why, have you never heard the legend of Midas, the king of gold?”

He stamped a foot and a bright flare of gold spread across the platform under him. A few people screamed with shock, especially as it began creeping in tendrils down across the stage and along the ground towards them, stopping just short of touching anybody.

“I am the ancient king, imprisoned for thousands of years!” Midas roared. “I am one of the original gifted. I am a _god_ , and I have returned to take my rightful place in this realm… and to restore _theirs_.”

He swept an imperious arm towards Ryan, and beamed warmly at him. Gavin felt Ryan’s arms tighten around him. The other man didn’t smile back, but Midas was unfazed, turning back to Claudius.

“You believe you deserve to rule the Stoneworld?” he demanded.

“Yes,” Claudius replied, hesitantly. Apparently he still had a few dregs of pride left.

“And what have you done for the people?”

“I put our interests first,” Claudius replied, lifting his chin. “Protect ourselves, not the other kingdoms.”

Midas began to laugh again. Everyone around looked deeply uncomfortable.

“You are dealing with things you don’t even comprehend,” he chided. “You don’t know about the tower, do you? You don’t know that the crowns are one, that the kings are bound together blood and soul. The kingdoms are meant to be united. You are a fool - but King Haywood understands.”  
  
Claudius stared at him, eyes burning. Afraid, but angry.

“You brought nothing but war and destruction to your own people,” Midas continued. “You refuse to work with the Wild king - he could crush your kingdom, if he had the mind for it. Would you like that?” he roared, turning to the crowds again. “Monsters roaming your streets? No wall can keep the Endermen out!”

Everyone stared at him, too frightened to speak. A few people were crying by now, clearly absolutely confused and terrified as to what was going on.

“Who has the gift?” Midas demanded then, turning back to Claudius. _“Who?”_

“Ryan,” Claudius was forced to admit, through gritted teeth.

“Who is worthy to rule?”

Claudius’ jaw clenched. He didn’t answer, and Midas abruptly seized the guard beside him. Gold spread immediately along his arms - he screamed horribly, twisting and writhing, slowly freezing as the metal crept up his torso, then up his neck and over his face. The wretched cries turned choked and garbled.

Ryan jolted in Gavin’s arms as they both stared in horrified fascination. It was just like his dreams, Gavin couldn’t help but think. Somehow, in person, it seemed far worse.

There were wails and screams from the crowds. None of them, Gavin thought with a shock, had ever seen a king actively use their gift _against_ someone.

The other soldiers started forward, swords rising against Midas - but they immediately fell back when the Wither and draugr fired a volley of arrows towards them. Claudius cried out, and stumbled back. He dropped the crown with a _clang_. Gavin couldn’t help feeling a little shock of satisfaction at his fear.

“Answer me!” Midas yelled.

“Haywood!” Claudius cried. “Haywood is!”

Midas nodded. He picked up the crown, and turned to Gavin and Ryan, ushering them forward.

“Come on,” Gavin murmured. He pulled at Ryan’s arm, but the other man hung back. Gavin turned and found him staring at Midas, brows furrowed.

“Gavin,” he said quietly. “He’s dangerous.”

“Ryan, we can trust him. I promise,” Gavin urged. “He won’t hurt us.”

Ryan didn’t look convinced. But when Gavin shook him off and moved forward, Ryan grabbed his wrist and then, after a final hesitation, moved up alongside him, seeming unsure but unwilling to let Gavin go by himself.

They reached Midas’ side. Gavin was overly conscious of the crowd’s eyes on them, and Ryan seemed to remember too that they had an audience. He straightened up, and snatched the crown when Midas passed it to him.

“That is yours, Stone king,” Midas informed him, solemnly. “You have the gift. You are the one with the right to lead. And from what Gavin has told me, you are the most worthy king that the Stoneworld has had in a long time.”

Ryan nodded, but he seemed suspicious. Normally, Gavin thought, he might not be so silent, so willing to let Midas waltz into his kingdom and take over - but he seemed shaken from his near-execution, and watched quietly as Midas turned to Claudius again.

“Kneel,” he ordered.

For a moment, Gavin thought Claudius would be too proud. But when Midas began to reach for him, he dropped shakily to his knees. Midas nodded, satisfied.

“Kiss my feet,” was his next command.

Gavin could see Claudius practically burning with humiliation. But after only a brief pause, he slowly leaned forward and pressed his lips to Midas’ shining golden boots. It was a crushing defeat, the moment when all the fight seemed to leave his forces as they realised their uprising had well and truly met its end.

Midas reached for Gavin. He curled an arm around his shoulders and pulled him up next to him.

“And his,” he told Claudius.

Gavin could only stare stonily down at Claudius as the other man looked up at him, eyes filled with hate. He couldn’t bring himself to pity him. He was one of the ones they’d suspected was behind his attempted assassination. The one who’d tried to fucking _murder_ Ryan - who’d come horrifyingly close. And whether it was under duress or not, it felt… good, for the man to be forced to acknowledge his power and position.

Claudius looked ready to spit in his face. But after a moment he leaned forward and kissed Gavin’s battered old boots, still flecked with the last remains of gold paint. His humiliation was complete, and Gavin felt an odd mix of guilt and satisfaction. When he turned to look at Ryan he could see the same emotions warring on his face.

Midas gave a wide grin.

“And now King Haywood,” he declared gleefully. “Your _rightful_ leader.”

Ryan held out a hand instead. Claudius took it and kissed his fingers, and Ryan shoved him back a second later.

“Many people died today because of your stubbornness,” he said.

“The same could be said of you,” Claudius sneered back, and Gavin saw the flicker of doubt that crossed Ryan’s face. Midas stepped forward, kicking Claudius flat onto his back and stepping on his chest, crushing him into the floor until he was wheezing for breath.

“Your wicked tongue has done enough damage,” Midas snapped. He turned to Ryan. “Who else here was involved?”

“He is the main one,” Ryan replied, stiffly.

Gavin frowned. He knew there was a council behind Claudius, that it hadn’t just been him. But if Ryan didn’t want to tell Midas, Gavin wouldn’t speak up just yet. 

Midas nodded.

“Banish him,” Ryan continued, stepping forward and tilting his head as he looked down at Claudius. His voice was so quiet and rasping still that the crowds probably couldn’t hear him, and even Gavin and Midas had to lean in to make out his words. “Cast him out into the Stoneworld. If he returns to the city, I’ll execute him personally.”

“No,” Midas said immediately. “An example must be made.”

Ryan frowned, and Gavin pressed his arm.

“Ryan, he tried to kill you,” he whispered. He’d assumed Ryan would show no mercy - after all, that’s what he’d done before. Now, Ryan began to shake his head - but it was too late. Midas was already moving forward.

He grabbed Claudius by the hair and yanked him easily to his feet, dragging him, struggling, to the front of the stage. Ryan started towards him, but Gavin grabbed his arm, not wanting him to get into a fight with Midas yet. They had to finish this, he thought grimly. They’d started it, they had to see it through to the end.

“Anyone who thinks to stand against the seven kings must face the power of their gifts!” Midas bellowed. “No human can resist a god - you were foolish to try!”

Claudius whimpered grotesquely. He was trying to yank himself free, but Midas had an iron grip on his hair as he slowly began to turn him to gold, starting from the top of his scalp. He let out a horrible scream - a high pitched wail, like a steam kettle. It tapered away as the gold spread down his face to his body, right to the very tips of his toes, pointed like a dancer’s where Claudius was holding him above the ground. When he let go, they couldn’t balance him, and the golden statue fell to the ground with a heavy _crash_ that shook the entire stage.

Gavin didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing it happen. The screams were horrible enough; he couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like. Each time it made him flicker with doubt.

_Accidents._

All it took was a single touch. Ryan, beside him, was trembling almost imperceptibly, and Gavin hugged him closer.

Midas lowered his hand. The people were gazing up at him with a mixture of awe and terror.

Suddenly Gavin heard another soft thud behind him - and another, and another. He and Ryan both turned.

The guards and the remaining members of the council who were still on the stage were falling to their knees one by one, their weapons clattering to the ground beside him, a clear surrender. A slow smile spread across Midas’ face.

A commotion was ringing out elsewhere in the city. One of the great bells in the watchtowers kept clanging, and Gavin looked up to see the Wither King - the Banshee - swooping about overhead. It was destroying parts of the buildings around it, and as they watched it rose up with a soldier caught in its arms. Its three heads tore him to shreds and sent the pieces raining back down into the streets.

Gavin could feel the others’ fear and confusion through the bond. He wondered if they could feel Midas. He couldn’t, since returning to their world. It seemed he was only present in the End, which was peculiar.

“We need to stop that thing,” he said, turning to Midas. “We didn’t come here to destroy the Capital.”

Midas nodded.

“Yes, I agree - our point has been made quite clear.”

“The mobs I’ve sent through the city,” Gavin added, reaching out to them with his magic. “I can see through their eyes. The Plains soldiers are coming. They’re marching from the Wild. Soon the others will be here.”

Midas’ face brightened.

“Excellent! Then let us go to meet them. But first…”

He gave Gavin a pointed look, and he nodded, calling on the Endermen who waited for him just outside the city. Five of them appeared in a flash, drawing more cries from the crowd - but the beasts ignored them. One carried a cube of obsidian, the others the painted stone blocks from the temple where the Tower used to be kept. They stacked them one atop another in the centre of the stage, everyone watching in confusion. 

“What’s going on?” Ryan murmured in Gavin’s ear.

“Just watch,” he whispered back.

Midas strode forward. He pressed his hand to the tower and slowly the four blocks turned to real, solid gold. By now the sun had risen, and in the morning light the statue shimmered gloriously. People raised their hands, shielding their eyes from the sparkling glare.

“With my return,” Midas announced, “The circle is complete. Kneel before your kings, your _gods_. The magic we wield is beyond your comprehension. No more war. No more uprisings. There are riches enough for everyone, if you are willing to accept your place.”

Hesitantly, a few people began to kneel. The others quickly followed suit, glancing fearfully at the monsters who still surrounded them. Midas walked over to Ryan and took the crown from his hands, placing it on his head instead. Their eyes met for a long moment. Ryan’s were steely and hard and Gavin could feel in the bond that he still didn’t like this.

But Midas didn’t seem to mind. He stepped back, and turned away.

“Come, my Wither,” he cried, beckoning them. “Let us gift your king with a crown.”

He strode away towards the gates leading out to the rest of the city. Ryan turned to Gavin, and grasped his shoulders urgently.

“Gavin,” he hissed. “What the hell have you done?”

“I had to,” Gavin replied. “It was the only way, Ryan-”

“You let him _out_?”

“I had to!” he repeated, desperately, “They were about to _kill_ you.”

“You could have saved me with the mobs. Just you. We didn’t need him, gods, what are the _others_ going to think-”

“Claudius is dead,” Gavin said. That was all he could think. “They’re kneeling, and Claudius is dead.”

Ryan hesitated. He turned and looked over his shoulder, and his eyes widened as he seemed to realise exactly what was going on. His crown was back on his head; Gavin wore his. The tower shimmered before them, the ultimate symbol of their unity. And the people still knelt, heads bowed. It was, by all accounts, exactly the outcome they’d needed.

Gavin reached out and touched Ryan’s shoulder, gently. It had shaken him before, how furious Ryan had been, how upset. The rift that had been forming between him and the others. He’d needed to _fix_ it. And he could see now - he’d almost been too late. Ryan had nearly died just now, and none of the others had been here in time. Only Midas.

Ryan turned to him, eyes wide, and Gavin gave him a reassuring smile. He leaned in and kissed him, gently, heedless of everyone he knew was watching. For the first time, it didn’t matter what any of them thought. They couldn’t be stopped.

Ryan hesitated, then tugged him closer, hands grasping his cheeks and tilting his head back, kissing him deeply. When Gavin was in the Stoneworld, before, they’d been restrained with their public affection, careful not to touch too often, to give anything away that could be used against them. Now, Gavin’s heart soared. He finally felt _free_.

His exhilaration stretched out, mingling with Ryan’s strand of the bond, lifting him up with him. He felt the other man finally seem to _understand_. When they pulled apart, Ryan stroked his cheek and stared at him, eyes blazing.

“I love you,” Gavin whispered. The words burst out, any last walls broken down now. Ryan’s face softened.

“I love you too,” he murmured, and swallowed, clearing his throat a few times before turning back to his people.

Most were still on their knees, wary of Gavin’s mobs around the place and staring at the two of them, shellshocked. When Ryan stepped forward, a few in the front rows flinched - but Ryan just gripped Gavin’s hand tightly, tugging him along with him to the front of the stage. He stepped gingerly over Claudius’ toppled form, nudging the statue with his boot before lifting his head and looking at his people.

The nobles looked scared. They clutched each other, as confused and terrified as before.

Ryan cleared his throat. When he began to speak, his voice was hoarse and rasping despite his best efforts, but the domes built around the space projected it around the town square.

“I deeply regret that things had to come to this,” he announced. “But Claudius stole a crown that wasn’t his. He threatened the lives of my most loyal friends. Executed many innocent people. And worst of all, he sought to break the alliance that has brought us so much security and peace.”

The people watched in silence. Gavin, too, stared at Ryan, transfixed. His clothes were ragged and bloody, but with his head held high and wearing his crown, there was something undeniably regal about him.

“There is much you don’t know about our world,” he continued. “Much that I myself only recently discovered. The Nether, where we went to find King Geoff. The End, where Midas has just returned from. My duty has always been to help as many of my citizens as possible - but how can I keep you safe if you won’t trust me? I will explain everything that has been going on soon enough. In the meantime, go inside to your homes. Stay safe while King Gavin and I sort the rest of this out. Enough people have been hurt today.”

No one moved, and after a moment Ryan sighed.

“I appreciate those who remained loyal to me throughout this… turbulence,” he said. “You will be rewarded. In the meantime, remember - the Wild is now no threat. The benefits of the other kingdoms’ gifts will be shared with us. The power will be back on later today. Things are going to change from now on, and I’ve never had anything but all our best interests at heart. But I won’t let anyone threaten the peace that this alliance brings us.”

The people didn’t quite look like they believed him, and to be fair, the words were a little at odds with the sounds of the battle around them, the screams of the banshee and the fact that two people had just been fucking turned to gold in front of them. But right now, there was little else he could do, and he turned to Gavin.

“They’re afraid of the mobs,” he murmured.

Gavin raised a hand. The creatures turned and filed back out of the square, and _now_ the people scuttled away, fleeing back to their homes. They were in no danger, Gavin knew - the arrival of the Wither would put an end to the battle, and once they dealt with the banshee peace would fall over the city again.

“Let’s go,” he whispered, and Ryan nodded. He was still holding Gavin’s hand tightly, seeming unwilling to let him go, and Gavin squeezed it back as they followed the direction Midas had gone side-by-side. He could feel Michael nearby, a ball of anger and confusion. The others were frantic, too, sending constant, questioning prods through the bond.

Overhead, the banshee screamed, and despite himself Gavin flinched.

_You’ve won_ , he thought, but somehow it still felt like the battle was going on.

 

* * *

 

Michael was standing in the middle of the road yelling at his men when they arrived in the lower city. He seemed to be directing them behind cover, where they could fire volleys of arrows at the banshee swooping in the sky above.

When the mobs arrived, marching down the street ahead of them, he turned in confusion, and Gavin saw his face pale at the sight of so many Wither - and then at Midas, thundering along after them with his golden sword raised. A few straggling groups of Claudius’ mercenaries, unaware what had happened, were still making a last stand in the streets, more because they were trying to escape than because they were protecting the gate.

“Michael!” Gavin called out, as he rushed up with Ryan in tow.

Michael looked over at him, and his face twisted. He looked even more confused - but slightly less likely to rush up and try to stab Midas the second he saw him. When he saw Ryan behind him, too, he looked relieved, especially since he must’ve noticed he was wearing his crown.

“Gav!” he called back.

He started to run towards them, only to stumble when the banshee suddenly landed on the ground behind him, rising to its full height with a screech. The force of its landing made the whole street tremble, and the soldiers flinched back away from it.

It was a hideous creature; skeletal, but with leathery expanses of black flesh stretched between its bony limbs giving it a batlike appearance. It rose on taloned haunches and threw back each of its three skull-like heads, purple eyes burning as it screamed again.

Everyone clutched at their ears. The scream was piercing and shrill and seemed to cut right through the centre of Gavin’s skull. It lashed out towards Michael with one clawed hand, and he leaped out of the way, swinging his sword back ready to strike. Gavin felt a jolt of alarm - but Midas was already moving forward and yelling.

“Wither King!”

The creature froze in its tracks, turning towards him. Midas raised his eyebrows and nodded towards Gavin. The heads swivelled towards him, and Gavin swallowed hard. He slowly pulled his crown off and raised it high above his head in one hand. His heart was pounding as he forced himself to meet the beast’s eyes.

“Gavin,” Ryan hissed. “What are you doing?”

Gavin ignored him, keeping his gaze fixed on the beast. He remembered, deep in the Ender forest, the other monster turning away from them. How powerful he’d felt then. He didn’t want to give the crown up, but it was part of the plan. Part of him was still scared - thought maybe this was the part after which there was no backing out - but no, he’d crossed that line the second he returned to the End.

He held the crown up, staring the beast in the eyes. It stared back - then abruptly launched itself into the air and swooped towards him. Gavin forced himself not to flinch even as he heard Michael and Ryan cry out in surprise, even as he watched the rows of sharp teeth in every mouth plunge towards him. He remembered, as a young man first coming to Geoff’s court, watching the falconeers in amazement. The birds had been enormous and he’d wondered how their handlers weren’t afraid to have such incredible beasts swoop at them, land heavy on their arms, sharp beaks and claws too close to tender eyes and tongues.

It felt the same way now, the banshee’s great wings sending gusts of wind down the street as they flapped, moving heavily towards him. Closer it came, and closer - then its grasping talons seized the crown, wrenching it from his grip before flying off again.

Gavin’s shoulders slumped in relief. His hands were shaking and his wrist hurt, but he watched the Wither king fly up into the sky until it was small as a bird. It was headed for the Wild, he noted, and sent a mental command to his mobs back in the jungle to guard whatever area it ended up in to stop anyone entering.

Michael was staring after the creature, his mouth hanging open.

“What the _fuck_ was that thing?” he burst out finally, when he seemed to recover his voice. “Another beast? Why was it here?”

“It distracted Claudius’ men long enough for us to enter the city,” Gavin replied, quietly. “Did it help you here, too?”

Michael bit his lip unwillingly. Gavin knew it must’ve, that the creature’s sudden arrival would have helped Michael’s dwindling forces gain the upper hand in these streets. Not to mention it had shown the people, now, the threat that existed in other worlds. Just one of the many reasons they needed this unity. There were scarier things out there than the other kingdoms.

He turned to Midas, who looked very satisfied. He bound over to Gavin and clapped him on the back.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Relieved,” Gavin replied.

Michael seemed to have just registered Midas’ presence. His eyes widened in alarm as he it seemed to hit him exactly what had happened here.

“King Michael!” Midas cried, turning to him. “Gavin has told me much about you.”

He offered a hand, but Michael blatantly recoiled from it. Gavin couldn’t blame him; given the other man’s powers he was right to be wary. Hadn’t Gavin been, at first?

“Okay,” Michael said instead, shaking his head as he stared between all the others. “What the fuck?”

“Pretty much what I was thinking,” Ryan replied.

“Gavin warned me that you would be wary of my motivations,” Midas said. “I completely understand. Believe me, we are all on the same side here.”

“And what side would that be?” Michael asked, suspiciously.

“Unity,” Midas announced. “Unity that can only be achieved if the people allow us to do what we must. Hence I have restored Ryan’s crown, the beast remains as a warning of what could befall us, and I have unlimited gold if you should need to convince anyone else of the benefits of this situation. So you see - I come bearing both the stick and the carrot! Together we can lead this realm anywhere.”

Michael’s eyes were narrowed. Gavin stood a little awkwardly - Midas could be… a little overwhelming at first, with his fierce passion and the fact that he constantly seemed to have his voice cranked to full volume. He was starting to get used to it, but for the others his sudden, incredibly shiny presence must be rather a shock.

“Where’s Claudius?” Michael asked, finally.

“Dead,” Ryan said, and swallowed. “Midas killed him. He was about to kill me. I will banish the rest of his council, and brief the citizens on what’s happening with the other lands and the portals. There was just no _time_ before.”

“Now you have all the time in the world,” Midas informed him, warmly.

They both gave him rather unimpressed looks, and Gavin bit his lip. This wasn’t going _quite_ as he’d intended. He’d known they’d all been unhappy, but he’d hoped he’d be able to convince them. The entire atmosphere just felt _colder_ than he’d expected, and he realised that maybe he’d let his enthusiasm cloud his expectations a little.

Michael sighed. He walked up to Ryan and ran a hand down his arm, checking him over. It seemed to finally be registering that for now, at least, the fighting was over.

“Jeremy told me what happened,” he said quietly. 

“He’s safe?”

“Yes. Thank you for that.”

“I wasn’t about to let him die,” Ryan said fiercely, and Michael gave him a small smile. They both turned down the road.

With the banshee gone and Claudius’ forces dismantled, the soldiers seemed to have realised that the conflict was over. The Wither and mobs were just standing around, and now that it was clear they weren’t going to attack, people had begun to gather the wounded. Mica was walking towards them, and Ryan hurried to meet her. Gavin inched closer to Michael.

“Michael-”

“What?”

Michael turned to him and Gavin couldn’t help feeling suddenly nervous.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked, quietly.

Michael’s face softened. He shook his head and put an arm around Gavin, hugging him closer. He looked tired, and still a bit shocked, but he was warm and gentle, and Gavin leaned into him.

“Not at you, Gav,” he said.

Gavin frowned, confused - but at that moment he heard the familiar shriek of Geoff’s voice, and Michael stiffened beside him.

_“Gavin!”_

They both turned to see the others running down the main road towards them. The Plains soldiers marched behind them, but there was something comical about how _late_ they were. The fighting was already over and done with, and pouring more soldiers into the city now only looked silly. Gavin ran to meet them. He and Geoff collided with a clash of armour that made his teeth rattle, but they both ignored it, embracing tightly. There was whiskey on Geoff’s breath, but he wasn’t drunk.

“Gavin, where the hell have you been?” he cried, and pushed him back a little, hands squeezing his shoulders. His brows furrowed. “And what the _fuck_ are you wearing?”

Gavin laughed, feeling a flush of self-consciousness. He wasn’t used to wearing armour, and especially such _loud_ armour. He’d almost forgotten until now that he was in gold as bright as Midas’, shining like a soldier of the sun.

“You know where I’ve been, Geoff,” he managed softly.

Geoff looked over his shoulder at Midas. His face twisted - he looked upset, but not surprised. None of them could have failed to notice the Wither all over the city - or that the creatures weren’t attacking, just standing guard around the place and contributing to its generally ominous atmosphere.

Midas waved cheerfully.

“Fucking gods,” Geoff muttered.

Ray and Jack were close behind him. Gavin turned to them, bracing himself a little to be yelled at - but both of them just looked drained and tired. Ray’s arm was still bandaged - Gavin had noticed that his soldiers were here with Michael’s, but something about the look on the other man’s face made him pause.

It was Jack who spoke first, staring at Gavin with that particular look of his that always made Gavin feel rather like a misbehaving child.

“Dan told us not to worry about you,” he said, flatly.

“I wasn’t in any danger.”

“Gavin…” Jack trailed off, helplessly. Gavin reached for him, but let his hand fall at the look on his face. “Oh, Gavin. I don’t know what you’ve done.”

“I’ve _stopped_ all this,” Gavin said, a fierce need to make them _understand_ rising up now. “Stopped the war. Dealt with Claudius. Got Ryan’s crown back. Now we can all be together. The people will know our power - we can show them how much _better_ things will be. It’s everything we wanted, right? Don’t worry about Midas. He won’t hurt us. All he wanted was to come back here, too.”

He smiled - but the others didn’t look convinced. They glanced over at Michael and Ryan, who stared back at them. Michael had gone to stand by Ryan, one hand on his shoulder.

Gavin glanced between the two groups. He’d expected the others to rush to Ryan and make sure he was okay after what had happened. Instead, there was a lingering awkwardness - one he could feel in the bond as well as see in person. They were hanging back. Jack and Ray looked pained, like they wanted to go to him but weren’t sure how.

“What happened while I was away?” Gavin demanded.

Geoff rested a reassuring hand on his back.

“We’ll tell you later,” he said. “Let’s deal with this first.”

“There isn’t too much to deal with-”

“Gav,” Geoff said, voice gentle but stern. “Where the hell is he gonna live? What kingdom will he rule over? What’s he gonna _do_?”

Gavin swallowed.

“He can live in the Wild with me?” he offered, but realised with a rather sinking feeling that he hadn’t thought this through beyond the initial victory.

Geoff gave a heavy sigh. They walked over to join the others. Midas looked nervous, bouncing on the soles of his feet.

“I’m Geoff,” Geoff said, flatly, coming to a stop just far enough that Midas couldn’t reach out and touch him. “That’s Jack and Ray.”

“Wow!” was Midas’ response to that. “Gavin told me the story of the games and how you all came together, and I must say, I imagined you all to look quite different.”

This strange remark flabbergasted them for long enough that Ryan finished talking to his people and strode back over to them, Michael in tow.

“Mica is going to sort things out in the city,” he said. “Kerry will join us here soon. I’ll put the power on and get the golems back on patrol. Later I’ll hold a court session, but first I think we all need to go inside and just fucking sit down for a minute and work out what we’re doing here.”

He rubbed his hands over his face, looking exhausted. His hair was hanging in wisps where it’d come out of its braid, and he looked well in need of a strong drink and probably medical attention. Gavin could see how pained the others looked, but Michael and Ray weren’t meeting each other’s eyes, and no one seemed to quite know what to say.

“Yes!” Midas finally exclaimed, breaking the awkward silence. “I agree! Let us all go in and talk. I would like to introduce myself to you further.”

Gavin bit his lip as they began to file towards the castle in silence. He’d thought he’d bring Midas back and there’d be celebrations. Unity. But it was quickly becoming apparent that things wouldn’t be quite so easy.

He fell back by Ray’s side as they walked and the other man glanced at him. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. _Probably hates you. Probably thinks you’re an idiot for doing this_. 

“Ryan nearly died,” Ray said abruptly. “I felt it. We should’ve been there.”

“What happened?” Gavin whispered. “Are you all fighting?”

Ray just bit his lip.

“Gods, Gavin,” he muttered. ‘I just hope this works out how you intended.”

Gavin looked down, wrapping his arms around himself. Ray looked at him, and let out a slow breath. He reached out and squeezed Gavin’s arm, but his hand fell away a second later and the frown didn’t leave his face.

 

* * *

 

Jack remembered the first time they’d all returned to the Stoneworld after the games - how they’d sat there, waiting for Gavin in a strained silence. There’d been an anger and a resentment between all of them then, and there was now, too, as though things kept falling back into the same pattern, again and again. Uprising. War. Walls coming up between them.

Over and over and-

This time, they weren’t waiting for anyone. This time, they were all here - _all_ of them, Midas included.

The Gold king had produced an enormous and extravagantly decorative cake, which now sat proudly in the middle of the table. A quarter of it was gone. Midas had eaten it himself as he repeated the same story he’d told Gavin, perhaps to prove it was safe, perhaps out of sheer awkwardness. Gavin had taken a slice, but sat picking idly at it.

“Come on,” Midas said finally, after another minute had passed of them all just - well, _staring_ at him, processing that this was actually happening. “Won’t someone try just a little? King Ray?”  
  
Ray stared at him with his usual implacable blankness.

“I _despise_ cake,” he said, flatly.

“Midas,” Gavin spoke up, putting his fork down. “What are you planning to do now?”

“Yes,” Geoff jumped in, “Exactly the question. I assume you have no desire to return to the End.”

“No,” Midas said instantly. “I built a home and a life there, but the place could burn and I wouldn’t miss it. I’m sick of it. Step one is to build a community for the Wither.”

“Oh,” Geoff said, “They’re staying too?”

“Yes! They’re not actually like mobs. They have independent minds, independent thoughts - they wanted to return home as well!”

Jack grimaced - if Midas wasn’t actually in control of the Wither, it only made them even more dangerous. 

“Okay,” Geoff said, “And whose land are you going to do that on, hm? Because the world isn’t like it was the last time you were here. It’s very strictly divided into biomes, and most areas have at least a few people living in them, save the most barren parts of the desert.”

“Maybe you can help me find somewhere,” was Midas’ rather cheerful response. “Once that’s done, I thought I might do some exploring. Start building my treasury up again. Live out my days here. I didn’t age in the End, but now that I’m back, I will. I can meet people, have a _life_ again. You can’t comprehend how terribly lonely it was over there. But the first step…”

Oh boy, there was a _first step_? Jack glanced at Geoff, exchanging incredulous looks. As he turned back, he caught a glimpse of Michael and Ryan where they were sitting on Gavin’s other side. They made a matching set, both leaning back in their seats, brows furrowed and arms folded.

Jack felt a sudden pang. He hated how things had turned out, and especially how Ryan was angry with them. He’d been so scared when he felt the other man’s panic through the bond. Even worse had been the flood of emotions he’d sent after that. Love, regret, sorrow - an admission of feelings he wasn’t ready to say out loud, yet which meant more than Jack could say. If Ryan had died there…

_Midas saved him._

But he shook himself as soon as the thought came. _Don’t fall into that trap._ He refused to trust the other king, especially after seeing what he had done to Claudius. _All it takes is him getting angry with one of you… all it takes is a touch._

That was one reason they were all trying to stay calm, even if they didn’t feel it right now.

“Pray share, what is this first step?” Geoff said.

“The first step is security,” Midas announced. “To establish in every single kingdom the new order-”

“New _order_?” Michael burst out furiously - Ryan put a hand on his arm, and he fell silent again.

“Well, yes,” Midas said. “The new _way_ of things. That is, we are the seven kings, we will work together from now on, and everyone must respect that. Fairly basic stuff, you know! The great chain of being and all that.”

There was a long, vaguely horrified silence. Gavin was cutting his cake into little pieces and not looking at them. It was strange for him - usually he’d be more than vocal about defending his position, whatever that might be. Now, he seemed content to let Midas take the lead. Jack frowned as his eyes rested on the other man. He didn’t like to see Gavin all decked out in gold like he was. He looked good, yes, but he didn’t look like _Gavin_.

Geoff sighed heavily and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Midas,” he said, finally. Midas perked up just at someone saying his name directly. “Do you know why our Plains forces weren’t there in the Stone capital helping Ryan fight?”

“I must admit, I am curious.”  
  
“We wanted to be there. We would’ve helped him fight, but after certain… other events that happened, our council voted against it. You’ve never had that, have you? Your didn’t inherit your crown, didn’t even, well, have one really. You gained power in another way. But that’s how things _work_ here, now. You can’t just start a war on a whim. Being king isn’t about just doing whatever you want and fuck everyone else. Yes, we make the final decision, but the people need to have some sort of say. And if you’re a good leader, you respect that. You _listen_ to that.”

Midas was nodding.

“I know exactly what you mean!” he agreed enthusiastically, and Geoff did a double take.  
  
“Wait, you do?”

“Yes! Of course! That is how many of the great and respected leaders of my time conducted themselves.”

“But then-”

“But we are not human kings like they are,” Midas continued. “We have a higher power. The tower, the gifts... I have already told Gavin, so let me tell you now - we are the gods. The gifted who were talked about in the old stories. On the way to the Stoneworld Gavin and I passed by the old temples of the Wild and saw the statues of the gods there. Many of them are people I recognised! Others who were considered worthy enough to ascend. Think about it, Geoff - could a human have come back from the dead as you did? I think not!”

Geoff spluttered, and Jack reached out and squeezed his knee under the table. He was just as lost for words. What was most terrifying was how _certain_ Midas sounded, and his smile as he said it.

Maybe it was because Jack hadn’t been born royalty, maybe because his mother had had a passion for working amongst the poor in the city. But he’d always despised those who took advantage of class divides, who so severely looked down upon those beneath them. There were realities to the structure of the system that had to be accepted, yes, but for the most part he hated seeing anyone treat others as lesser than them.

Believing yourself a god above all other mortal men was taking that to an entirely new and rather horrifying extreme.

“Midas,” Ray spoke up, flatly. “Have you ever heard the term _hubris_?”

Michael couldn’t seem to help letting out a snort of laughter at that. Midas glanced between them, and for the first time, a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. He turned to Gavin, and laid a hand on his arm.

“Gavin, you-”

“Okay, first off, can you stop fucking touching him,” Geoff snapped. Jack had to agree - it was making him antsy how often Midas kept touching Gavin’s arm or back. How Gavin was _letting_ him, despite his promises to be careful.

“It’s fine,” Gavin began.

“It’s fine now,” Jack said, “All it takes it one fucking instance of it _not_ being fine-”

“I would never hurt Gavin,” Midas informed them. “I consider him to be like my godson. I was very close to his father, you know.”

“Yes, we know,” Geoff said tiredly, “You informed us earlier. Extensively. I still don’t like it.”

“But _I_ don’t mind,” Gavin said. He looked up, something harder in his face. “Don’t you guys understand? Midas didn’t force me to release him. I _chose_ to. I chose to because I believe him and I… I think there’s something to what he’s saying. Perhaps not _gods_ , that term is loaded with too much other stuff. Ideas of… of creation and judgment. Omnipotence. But even you have to admit - don’t we have abilities beyond any ordinary human?”

“That doesn’t mean-” Ryan began, but Gavin cut him off, something which stunned everybody at the table.

“Haven’t we all _felt_ something in this bond? Something powerful? We want to be together. Now, we can be. Maybe it takes a bit of fear for everyone to accept it, but once they do, everyone benefits. Midas was thrown into the End because his peers didn’t think he deserved to be king. Exactly what people say about Ryan, about _me._ We know it’s not true.”

Jack stared at him. A funny, hollow feeling had opened in his chest. He could tell from the look on Gavin’s face that he believed Midas, that he empathised with him so strongly that he couldn’t see the issues with the other man’s story. It hurt, because he loved Gavin, to see how badly everything had affected him, how damaged he still was. And he could see, in how Midas gazed at Gavin too, that he felt that same connection. He suddenly had no doubt in his mind that eventually Gavin would have let him out anyway. Somewhere along the line, it would’ve played on him too much; a man who mirrored him in so many ways remaining imprisoned, judged, with no chance to prove himself or tell his own story. There was a sinking inevitability to it.

“I’m sick of this,” Gavin whispered, when no one spoke up. His fists clenched, shoulders trembling. “I’m so fucking _sick_ of it. I’m sick of the way they look at me. I’m sick of people telling us we can’t be together. I’m sick of Ryan having to walk on eggshells around his own court. We _know_ that what we have, this thing between us, is right. We know it, but until everyone else accepts it, we’re just… _trapped_.”

He made a furious, helpless gesture, then looked around at each of them.

“I love all of you,” he said, fiercely. “I want us to be together. We _can_ be, now - can’t you see that? Ryan,” he added, turning to him and touching his hand. “You understand, don’t you? We need to take control of this.”

_Control_. That was a loaded word for him, and Jack jolted. 

Ryan’s shoulders had stiffened. He didn’t nod, but after a moment he turned his hand to squeeze Gavin’s, slotting their fingers together. There was a lingering silence, and Jack turned to Ray, whose face was stony. Geoff’s eyes mirrored the horror in Jack’s own expression. Michael, on Ryan’s other side, looked like he was about to explode, but in a remarkable and uncharacteristic show of self restraint, he didn’t say a word.

Finally, Midas sighed, seeming to realise he couldn’t win them over in a single sitting.

“There is no rush,” he said. “I’m sure you need time to think on this - and to get to know me! Tonight, at least, let us celebrate and feast. Ryan has his crown and his kingdom back, and that is something worthy of a few drinks, don’t you agree?”

He regarded his cake with tremendous sadness, but reached down to the bag he’d brought with him and pulled out a sack.

“I also have a gift for you all,” he said. “When alliances are forged, there is sometimes an offering, yes?”

He pulled out a shimmering gold nugget and passed it to Gavin - then one more for each of them, sliding them across the table before each king.

They were beautiful, even Jack could admit that. Pure, untarnished gold - that was something people killed for. He couldn’t help reaching out and touching it, admiring its smooth, cool surface.

Ray did not seem impressed. He picked his up and then dropped it back on the table with a _clang!_

“Nice gift,” he said. “What, did you just pick up chunks of rock from the ground and take two seconds to transform them?”

“Ray,” Gavin chided, sounding genuinely annoyed.  
  
“What? Ryan could give us all a piece of redstone and it’d mean just as little.”

Midas looked pissed off, his face darkening. _Gavin_ was the one who touched him now, resting a hand on his arm to calm him down.

“It’s not about how much it’s worth or how much effort was put in,” he said. “It’s a symbol of the prosperity Midas can bring. Not everyone is going to accept this new order out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“Gold is a… persuasive motivating factor,” Midas agreed.

Yes, but in what way, Jack couldn’t help but think. Offering bribes - or literally fucking turning people into gold, because one of those things was a _little_ more extreme than the other.

“Thank you,” Geoff said, remarkably diplomatic. “We will continue to think about this. And if we did agree to work together, what precisely would the next step be?”

“Why, we’d travel to the other kingdoms and ensure that everyone else agrees with this new way of things.”

“Our other kingdoms,” Geoff said pointedly - a mild threat, but one that Midas was apparently oblivious to.

“Yes!” he cried, gleefully. “ _Our_ other kingdoms!”

Jack had to struggle not to put his head in his hands; Midas seemed to mistakenly think that Geoff was offering him some control over this situation. Geoff opened his mouth, but Midas was  already bounding to his feet again.

“I am off to talk to your council and invite them all to tonight’s festivities,” he informed Ryan. Jack was hit with the horrible vision of Midas barging into the private chambers of all the courtiers, who were presumably cowering in terror and probably planning to flee the country after everything that’d happened today. “My Wither, I will send back to the Wild for now, in case they frighten the people. Gavin’s mobs and your forces should be more than sufficient to keep things in control here! And then I’ll see you all this evening. I am very excited to party!”

With that, he charged out of the room. As soon as the doors shut behind him, everyone at the table exchanged a horrified glance - save Gavin, who was turning his gold nugget over in his hands, frowning down at it.

“So,” Geoff spoke up finally, “Who wants to even _begin_ to try unpacking what just happened there?”

“We have to kill him,” Michael said. He was shaking his head, fists clenched. “I’m sorry, but this is a fucking calamity. _New order?_ Travel to all the other kingdoms? He’s pretty much planning world domination here. He seems to want to share leadership with all of us!”

“Isn’t that what we want?” Gavin spoke up, softly. “Once we’re together, it’s all gonna be shared, isn’t it? A new council ruling over a united land?”

“I don’t recall us ever discussing that,” Ray said.

“It’s the only way to avoid situations like what just happened here,” Gavin pointed out. “We already signed alliances before going to reassure Geoff. That didn’t change enough. People still don’t understand that we’re all _one_. Now Midas returning will show them. The portals will show them.”

“The portals will do just fine,” Ryan said. “We don’t need Midas.”

“He saved your life and you’ll kill him in cold blood?” Gavin demanded.

There was an uncomfortable pause. Finally, Gavin threw his hands up.

“You can all just scream at me now, by the way,” he said. “I know you want to.”

“No one’s gonna scream at you,” Geoff replied, and let out another tired huff. “Though gods know I should be fucking furious about this. It’s exactly what we don’t need. But I can see in your face, Gav, that you really did think this was the best thing. You’ve spoken to him the most of all of us. You’ve planned with him, travelled with him. Tell me, honestly - do you really think he’ll be content to grow to old age here, living peacefully in some Wither commune, travelling the land and seeing the sights? Or will he try and demand everyone worship him and go out of control like last time?”

Gavin bit his lip, staring at the table in front of him.

“We’re the same, Geoff,” he whispered finally. It wasn’t much of an answer. “He has a dangerous gift, but we’re the _same_.”

“You’re not,” Michael snapped. Gavin looked at him, and Michael leaned forward and grabbed his shoulders. “You’re _not_. Maybe your upbringings are similar, but back during the games you told me - you didn’t do this for power. It wasn’t about the crown, the glory, the gift. You just wanted to know about your family. All this shit about worship, about gods, that isn’t _you_. You’ve never made your subjects kneel. They call you by your fucking name for gods’ sake. Maybe you and Midas had similarities once, but not now. He’s gone too far and convinced himself he’s _owed_ everyone’s respect. You more than anyone know that’s something you build. You _earn_.”

Gavin stared at him, eyes huge. Then he shrugged Michael’s hands from him, and turned away.

“Maybe… maybe once,” he replied, voice tight. “I tried to prove myself, but it didn’t work. The Stoneworld, the Plains… people there despise me.”

“In time-”

“In _time_ , yes, we’ll show them all, won’t we? If we just - just _put up_ with it for now, we can _eventually_ have something. But I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of things constantly getting in the way. In time - time for another uprising, or an attack from another world, or a natural disaster, or- you see? What Midas is offering is-”

“Is easy,” Jack interrupted, quietly. “I get it.”

Gavin’s gaze turned to him, and for a moment Jack was reminded of the bright-eyed, mischievous thief he’d first met. What he’d loved in Gavin even from that instant was how _cheerful_ he’d been, despite the hand he’d been dealt - how playful. He hadn’t let anything wear him down.

Now that brightness was tarnished; he looked exhausted, and it broke Jack’s heart.

“It’s easy,” he repeated, “It’s quick. Hell, you’re right, it’d solve _everything_. But our relationship isn’t a problem that has to be fixed, and none of this should come at the expense of innocent lives. It’s not often that the paths you can take are so clear. And yes, one’s hard and long and dangerous, and the other looks quick and easy, but we’ve all been to death and back. I think it’s quite clear we’re willing to face the hard road together.”

Geoff and Ray were nodding along - even Michael’s face was bright and fierce as he stared at Gavin, who looked down at his hands, twisted tightly in front of him.

Finally, he sighed.

“I’m just really, really tired,” he murmured, something small and broken in it.

He rose from the table, shaking off Michael when the other man grabbed at his sleeve, and walked out.

Jack’s heart sank as the doors shut behind him. He was scared, more scared than he’d been even before the battle. He hated that he could see exactly what was leading Gavin down this path - hated that it was tempting to himself, too. These weren’t issues that were just going to go away - yes, things would play out somehow, but it was the _how_ that terrified him.

Geoff let out a loud groan. He dragged Gavin’s plate of half-finished cake towards him and began to eat it while the others looked on, incredulous, until he finally glanced up.

“At this point it’s a choice between stress-eating and stress-drinking. I’ll save that one in case things go even more downhill, which is looking like a distinct possibility.” He looked down at his fork, took another bite, and declared with his mouth full, “Pretty good, actually.”

Ray scoffed, but he looked shaken, and Jack reached out and squeezed his hand.

“Geoff, what are we gonna do?” Ray whispered, and Geoff stopped eating and put his head in his hands.

“Honestly? I have no fucking idea.”

“And what about you two then?” Jack asked, looking over at Michael and Ryan.

He regretted his phrasing instantly when Michael’s brows furrowed. _You two -_ it was unintentional, but it created another division between _us_ and _them_. He just hadn’t been sure if the others were still angry with them - from the look on Michael’s face now, the answer was probably _yes_ , as he seemed to suddenly remember the initial drama before this new, more grandiose drama came along and overshadowed it.

“What the fuck do you mean, _you two_?”

“Well, what’re your thoughts? Your plan?” Jack hated how nervous he sounded - among the _others_ , when it should’ve been _our_ plan.

“My position stands,” Michael declared. “We have to kill him. Only way things end without anyone else getting hurt. I can’t see any feasible way to chuck him back in the End.”

“Even after all this your number one idea is to jump straight to murder?” Ray asked quietly - and okay, _he_ was still pissed as well, then.  
  
“All this?” Michael snapped. “What exactly is _all this_ , Ray? Ryan nearly dying? The dozens of men we _both_ lost today? Midas fucking brainwashing Gavin into letting him out, or whatever the fuck happened in there? Forgive me if I wanna stop any more of _this_ from happening.”

He shoved his chair back noisily and stood up.

“Anyway, I’ll see you tonight.” He threw his hands up. “Maybe you can talk your way out of this one at the party, huh?”

With that, he too marched out, slamming the door so hard that the thick wood rattled.

“Anyone else want to storm out?” Geoff asked, tiredly. “No? Well, in that case, I’m gonna go meet with my council, tell them what’s happening now. Follow the fucking procedure and all that.”

“Geoff, we can’t tell everyone about this yet,” Jack began, and Geoff nodded.

“I know. Just the ones we trust. Lindsay, Burnie, Hullum… I need some outside perspective.”

“Okay. I’ll join you in a bit.”

Geoff nodded. He rose and squeezed Ray’s shoulder as he passed. The other man looked up - then got up and followed him out, leaving Jack and Ryan together.

Ryan was staring down at the table in front of him. He’d been oddly silent this whole time, and Jack wasn’t sure if he was upset or if it just hurt to talk. There was a horrifying, dark line of bruising around his throat. It reminded Jack of the macabre novels he’d used to help Gavin learn to read back in the Plains. Ghouls whose heads were cut off and stuck back on, who returned from the dead whole but soulless.

It must’ve been horrifying for some, even in the Plains, to see Geoff return, he realised suddenly. The superstitious or deeply religious. They’d disturbed the natural order of things.

_People will talk. They won’t like this._

For a horrible moment he could see exactly why Gavin was so scared. The hard road was very, _very_ hard, with endless twists and turns. Looking at all of the others and just how _exhausted_ they all seemed was suddenly, unbearably overwhelming.

Especially Ryan, gods - he finally looked up at Jack. His eyes were red and very dull.

“Well?” he said, voice flat. “What are you waiting for? Some words of wisdom? If Geoff couldn’t come up with any, I doubt I have a chance, An inspiring speech? You just gave a better one than any of the rest of us could have. What’s next, a song and dance number?”

“Ryan,” Jack chided, softly. He moved around the table to sit beside the other man. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“For what? Thought you stuck by your grand moral position.”

Something about the childish hurt in Ryan’s tone was worse than if he’d been cold, properly furious - showed how upset he was on a personal level, not just as a king.

“I do. But I’m sorry it worked out like this. I’m sorry we weren’t there when you…”

He trailed off, a lump suddenly rising in his chest at the thought of Ryan - scared, alone, _dying-_

Ryan looked away. He flinched when Jack reached out to touch him - but despite how angry he’d been, he didn’t pull away, just sat stiffly as Jack wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug, glad for a moment just to be _close_ to the other man again.

Ryan was tense for a moment, but eventually he reached up and squeezed Jack back - a brief, abrupt motion, but it was a start.

“Okay?” Jack asked.

“No,” Ryan replied, and Jack frowned, pulling back a little to look at him. Ryan’s eyes were dark. A hug, a kind word, none of that could fix this. Jack wasn’t sure what could. “When does it _end_?”

Just like with Gavin, there was something soft and broken in it. Jack had no answer, and Ryan’s arms slipped from around him. He turned away, shoulders hunched.

“Midas,” he began, and faltered.

“I know,” Jack said, “Him and Gavin-”

“No, it’s not about Gav. Though how close they seem in such a short time worries me. But Midas himself, actually meeting him, it… it disturbed me greatly.”

“The whole ‘gods’ and ‘worship’ thing is definitely uncomfortable,” Jack began, but again Ryan shook his head in frustration.

“It bothers me deeply that in the same way Gavin and I once connected, I can see… similarities in experience that are inclined to make me almost sympathetic. He longs for control, _absolute_ control. That is something I can… very much relate to. Who’s to say that what we condemn him for isn’t exactly what we do ourselves?”

“We’re nothing like him,” Jack snapped.

“We need respect, or how can we lead? For a long time I wore the mantle of Mad King. It kept me safe in my court, secure in my position. Even lately, I’ve donned it again to aid with this crisis. I didn’t say I _liked_ it, Jack - but you can’t deny it’s true.”

Jack bit his lip.

“Regardless,” he said quietly, “He doesn’t belong in this land. Not the way it is now. He can’t be a part of our council.”

“So you agree with Michael? Eliminate him?”

“No, I… I don’t know.”

Ryan hummed. He laced his fingers together and looked down at them - smudged with ash, angry blisters and burns from where he’d touched hot redstone.

“I fear,” he said slowly, “He might be a bad influence.”

“You are _not_ the same,” Jack began fiercely. He reached again to comfort him, but Ryan shrugged him roughly away. Jack stared at him, shocked - then surprised _himself_ when some frustrated urge overtook him and he beat one fist hard against the table. Ryan jumped.

“Damn it,” Jack said, “I wish we could just… _talk_ about this more. Make it _work_ , somehow. I wish you’d just trust me.”

That made Ryan’s eyes widen. There was a desperate sort of plea in it - a need for him to admit he did, that all they’d built between them was as real as ever and hadn’t been torn away along with everything else.

“Likewise,” Ryan began, and Jack made a frustrated noise.

“I do trust you,” he said firmly, and barrelled on when Ryan started to scoff. “I _do_. I trust that you didn’t go to battle last night just for the _power_ , or because you _wanted_ to throw your weight around. I trust that you’ve changed since I first met you, that you’re a good man, that you’re devoted to your people. I do trust you, Ryan, and I trust that you won’t turn into Midas, not on this.”

Ryan looked stunned. He didn’t quite seem to know what to say.

“I trust you,” Jack repeated softly - and rose, ready to turn away. Ryan probably wouldn’t listen right now, and part of him wanted to just go and lick his wounds for a while. Take a moment to _breathe_ before they had to deal with all this again.

“Jack,” Ryan whispered.

Jack paused, halfway out of his chair. He turned to see Ryan, head hanging down and staring at the table.

“I am afraid,” he said.

Jack’s heart clenched. He couldn’t move, and after a moment Ryan swallowed.

“I have my crown back, but I fear what my people think,” he continued. “I fear losing all of you. I’m scared of what’s happening with Gavin. I should be able to protect you all, but instead I just feel weak. I couldn’t even kill Claudius myself.”

“On the way in here I heard Jeremy telling Matt what happened,” Jack said. “That prevented you from killing him.”

Ryan began to shrug, but Jack stepped towards him.

“That is nothing to be ashamed of,” he said firmly. “If anything, that proves to me that you are strong. Stronger than any of your mother’s men, stronger even than Midas. _That’s_ who I love.”

Ryan bit his lip. He nodded, but seemed to want to be left alone. When Jack moved in and brushed his hair back from his face, leaning in to kiss the top of his head, Ryan leaned into him for a moment, one hand rising to curl around Jack’s arm briefly.

This wasn’t the last thing they had to worry about - but with the Stoneworld won Jack thought this was at least one battle over. Right now, Ryan’s actions weren’t the ones he was concerned about.

 

* * *

 

Gavin sat in the corner of the hall, watching everyone else.

If anyone was happy about how the day had gone, it was definitely the Alpine soldiers. Even Gavin had to smile at how much they were enjoying the banquet that’d broken out. For what had to be one of very few times in its history, the great hall of the Stone castle was filled with laughter and festivity. Midas had insisted on inviting literally everybody in the city, though not many had shown up. Most of the lower city were too scared, fearing some trick or trap after all the chaos of the last week - but a group of rowdy young miners had dared their luck, and when they found out the party was real, called for some of their friends to come along.

Now commoners and nobles alike mingled in the great space, rubbing shoulders with Ryan’s worried council. Even the generals and some of the nobility of the Alps had come through the portal to join them. Michael hadn’t objected to this - wanted to get his people’s thoughts on Midas before, Gavin presumed, deciding whether to stab him in his sleep or not.

Speaking of Midas.

The man was the life of the party. He was handing out gold nuggets to anyone who dared to approach him, and wandering around excitedly telling stories and asking people about their lives in this new realm. Dancing wildly whenever the music got particularly exciting. Downing an impressive and borderline concerning amount of mead.

There was something endearing about it; after so long alone he was clearly ecstatic to be among _people_ again, and there was a childlike giddiness to his glee.

Gavin’s mobs stood guard around the room, and everyone kept well away from them - but the kings themselves were scattered. Jack and Geoff sat with the Plains nobility, subdued and watching in silence. Ray was across the room with Gavin’s own Wild friends - he glanced over to check on them, now and then, aware that even his own people were unhappy with what he’d done. Dan kept trying to talk to him and Gavin had been dodging him by slipping through the crowds until he found this corner.

No one was really talking to him, still too wary to approach the Wild king. He was dressed just in his usual creeperskin clothes again, not royal garments like everyone else, and he couldn’t stop looking over at the performers - a rather terrified looking band of musicians. He remembered a time when he’d have been the one capturing everyone’s attention with his juggling and tricks. Now, too many eyes fell on him before sliding away again immediately, too nervous to hold his gaze. He’d even used to get along with the soldiers, fitting in amongst Dan’s friends like they were his own brothers - but they looked at him differently now, too.

_You knew what you were getting into, taking the crown._

_Is it worth what you gained? Everything you were looking for, you have the answers now._

_Robin._

_Maria._

He sighed, and poured himself another goblet of wine.  
  
“Gavvy!”

Heavy hands descended on his shoulders and he jumped, nearly choking on the sip of his drink he’d been taken. He turned to see Michael beaming at him.

The other man looked tired, but he’d clearly been drinking a bit; his cheeks were flushed and his voice a little slurred. Out of his armour, he looked softer, with his curly hair and smooth cheeks.

“Michael,” Gavin replied with a small smile.  
  
“What’re you lurking in the corner for?”

“I’m being hunted. By Dan,” he added, when Michael began to scowl.

“Oh. Why?”

“Think he’s pissed at me. We can talk about it later. I might turn in for the night soon.” He fidgeted, looking out at the crowds. A few people had relaxed enough to dance, most others were taking advantage of the free food and trying to avoid Midas’ noisy and rather obnoxious attempts at _mingling_. “Looks like he’s having fun.”

Michael followed his gaze and made an annoyed sound.

“He’s so fucking loud I can hear him from everywhere in the fucking room- there he goes again!” he cried, infuriated, as Midas’ booming laugh echoed around again.

“Some people seem to like him,” Gavin ventured - a few of the nobles had relaxed in his presence, and Midas had spent quite a long time talking with the young, slightly inebriated group of miners who’d rocked up earlier in the evening.

“He’s giving them free money,” Michael said. “Of course they like him. They won’t be so happy when he starts turning people into statues.”

Gavin sighed, sick of arguing about it. He looked away, sipping at his drink, and Michael seemed to notice he was upset. He squeezed Gavin’s shoulder again.

“Wanna get some air?”

 

* * *

 

It was nice to leave the rowdy party behind and head up into the silent watchtowers at the top of the fortress. From here there was a fantastic view of the city. With the lights back on, it was beautiful - Gavin had found the dark stone disturbing once, the red lights reminding him of the glowing eyes of beasts in the night, but by now he was used to it. Instead, all the crimson reminded him of the cheerful red lanterns that some of the cities around the Plains lit to celebrate the Moon festival.

The streets below were very empty, people still scared to go outside after all that’d happened. But the noise from the party under them, now that it was just a faint background buzz, was comforting in a way Gavin couldn’t explain. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone, that for once things were _good_.

Michael walked up to the window and leaned forward against the sill, staring out at the view. Gavin looked instead at their faces, reflected in the dark glass like phantoms. Pale and oddly young.

“Remember our adventure?” he said, abruptly, as his gaze focused out the window and onto the wall beyond.

“What?” Michael asked, glancing over his shoulder at him. “Which one? We’ve had a fucking few by now.”

“That first one. When we barely knew each other. We climbed the wall and looked at the Wild. Back then, I wasn’t a king.”

“Yeah, I remember.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Feels like ages ago.”

“It was fun. I really liked you back then, Michael,” Gavin said, a touch wistfully.

“I should damn well hope you _still_ like me,” Michael said, and slung an arm around Gavin, tugging him closer and ruffling his hair. Gavin laughed, burrowing into him, happy with how Michael’s arm dropped protectively around him.

“How’s your side?”

“Still sore,” Gavin admitted, “But feeling better. How are you? You weren’t injured in the fight?”

“Just bruises,” Michael replied, but his smile had faded. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

He looked down, and Gavin waited patiently. Finally, Michael sighed.

“While you were gone, we… we fought. You’ve probably worked out most of it by now, but Ryan wanted to attack the city while we had the chance. I agreed. The others wanted to try negotiating more, and they stood in our way. Things got… ugly.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Gavin whispered.

“I don’t know that you being there would’ve helped matters any. Some stupid, naive part of me thought that now we’re together, we wouldn’t fight like that,” he added, bitterly. “That somehow we’d all always agree on things.”

“Two people in a relationship still don’t always agree. Let alone six.”

“True, but… it rattled me.” He braced his free hand against the windowsill again, fingers curling against the stone until his knuckles turned white. “I stand by what we did, but I killed a lot of people today. That’s hard, sometimes. I know it’s the culture of the Alps to enjoy proving our worth, but it’s impossible not to think about it. You’ve never killed anyone,” he added, glancing at Gavin.

“I haven’t,” he murmured, but squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

He’d stabbed Tamora, but technically she’d already been dead, and Midas had finished her off. Everyone else he’d fought had been beasts - mobs, or Wither, or the Minotaur. 

But he’d stood by Midas as Claudius died. Watched the life leave him. He’d been the one to let him out - he was partly responsible, and the thought made something sick swell in his stomach. 

“Good,” Michael said. “Keep it that way as long as you can.”

“Will you be alright?” Gavin asked, turning to him. Michael gave a tired smile.

“Of course.”

“What about with Ray and the others?” Gavin asked, uneasily. He didn’t like how much tension there was between everybody; it seemed to be making everything ten times harder. “I heard you stormed out after I left.”

“Who told you that?”

“The whole bloody castle heard you slam the door!” 

Michael let out a little huff, almost a laugh.

“I love Ray,” he said finally. “We can’t stay mad at each other forever. But right now we disagree over Midas as well as being pissed about the other shit.”

“I didn’t mean to break us all apart,” Gavin said, miserably. “I just want all the other stuff to go away.”

“But replacing it with Midas?” Michael turned and grasped his shoulders. “Gav… if he turns on us, you’re gonna be the one who gets hurt the most.”

“He won't turn on us!” Gavin cried, sick of repeating it by now. “Don’t you _trust_ me?”

“Gavin, I trust _you_ completely,” Michael said, “But I don’t trust _him_ , and you’re not the same person.”

Gavin squeezed his eyes shut before finally sighing.

“Once this is over,” he said, as though if he kept repeating it, it’d make it true, “Everything will be fine. We just have to get it out of the way, first.”

Michael didn’t reply, but he also didn’t argue. After a moment Gavin rested his head on the other man’s shoulder and shut his eyes, trying to relax. They settled into a comfortable silence, the music from downstairs echoing faintly through the stone tower, Michael’s breathing and the rise and fall of his shoulder under Gavin’s cheek rhythmic and soothing.

He was tense, though, and Gavin noticed. After a while he slipped out of Michael’s hold and moved up behind him instead, massaging his shoulders. Michael groaned, leaning into his touch as Gavin kneaded his sore muscles, working out the ridges and knots from too long spent fighting, training, sleeping on the hard Nether ground. 

“That’s so fucking good,” he murmured finally, and Gavin laughed.

“Used to give Geoff these after long council sessions. We could all probably do with some stress relief right now.”

Michael laughed a bit. After a little longer he turned around to face Gavin instead, resting his hands on his waist and leaning in to kiss him. Gavin smiled, eyes slipping shut as he met Michael’s lips - only to gasp when Michael suddenly grabbed his waist and picked him up to sit him on the windowsill. It was a shock how easily the other man could lift him, and he started giggling uncontrollably. After a moment, Michael laughed too. It was nice, after everything.

“What?” Michael said finally, indignantly. “Nothing funny happened.”

“You’re strong, Michael.”

“And that’s hilarious, is it? Hm?” Michael crowded against him, mock-scowling, and grabbed his wrists when Gavin laughed and pushed at him. He struggled playfully for a moment before giving up and leaning in to kiss Michael again. Michael let go of him, hands cradling his face instead, so gently compared to what Gavin knew he was capable of that it made his heart swell.

Tender, loving Michael, Michael who didn’t deserve all the chaos that’d happened since his parents died - Michael who was warm against him now, who from the very beginning had valued him, no matter whether he was royal or not. That’s what they were doing it for, he thought to himself. That’s what _he_ was doing this for.

 

* * *

 

The evening’s festivities were winding down by the time they returned to the courtroom. Geoff, Jack and Ray had already retired for the evening, and many of the nobles were making their goodbyes as politely as they could, too.

Gavin looked around for Ryan and found him walking around, talking to various individuals from the Stoneworld. He didn’t look too happy with their responses.

By the time he’d seen his own friends off - they were heading back to the Wild, and he’d successfully managed to miss Dan, who’d left to catch up with his friends from the Plains - Ryan had relocated to stand by the windows, staring out into the night. Gavin came up beside him, and Ryan looked down.

“You alright?” Gavin whispered. Ryan had cleaned up, his wounds bandaged and bruises covered by the high neck of his tunic, but he still looked completely run-down.

“People are worried,” Ryan replied, grimly. “Things are not remotely stable here.”

“The alliance will fix that.”

Ryan snorted.

“It hasn’t so far. The Plains not coming to help me has rattled even my allies’ confidence in all this.”

“In time they will see,” Gavin insisted. “Continue working on the portals, that’s the main thing. And trust Geoff and Jack to be able to speak to their own council and make it known to everyone how this is going to go.”

Ryan looked down, and Gavin put a hand on his arm.

“Trust them,” he urged, “Please? Geoff’s been doing this a long time.”

“He was dead for half a year,” Ryan scoffed. “That’s also going to cause problems.”

“Continue working on the portals,” Gavin insisted. “I promise I have this under control.”

Ryan gave him a very unimpressed look. Clearly after everything that’d happened, he had lost all confidence in Gavin’s judgment. It hurt, especially after how close they’d gotten, and Gavin bit his lip, pressing the other man’s wrist.

“They knelt for us, Ryan,” he whispered. “We were together, and no one cared.”

“They were too terrified to react,” Ryan began, but Gavin shook his head insistently.

“It could be like that everywhere,” he urged. He reached up and put a hand on Ryan’s cheek, holding his gaze earnestly. His other hand slipped into Ryan’s, lacing their fingers together as he stared up into the other man’s deep blue eyes.

The band was winding down, playing a slower tune now as most people left. Gavin rocked slowly, back and forth, then dropped his hand to Ryan’s shoulder and tugged him along with him. Ryan dragged his feet at first, then reluctantly danced with him - slow movements, just stepping back and forth, pressed against one another. After a moment Ryan put his hands on Gavin’s waist and Gavin rested his head on the other man’s chest.

He looked across the room. People were watching them, but there were no filthy looks like there had been the last time he was in the Stoneworld. It was hard to read their faces; maybe it was just because they didn’t dare with the mobs and Midas around. But it was a start, at least, and for the first time Gavin didn’t feel scared to do this in public.

Midas, across the room, met his eyes. A wide smile spread across his face as he watched them, hands clasped in front of his chest like a proud father. Gavin couldn’t help smiling back.

This was everything he’d wanted, everything they _all_ wanted. They just needed to make sure things stayed this way.

 

* * *

 

They retired early that evening. Geoff and Jack were wiped out from a long meeting they’d had in the Sight; Michael and Ryan retreated to their own chambers and were soon soundly asleep after their trying day. Maybe in the morning things would look better, Gavin thought. Wasn’t that how it was meant to work? Everything seemed different after a good night’s sleep.

Michael had left earlier, but now as Gavin sat in the empty parlour he saw Ray passing by the doors.

“Ray!” he called out.

The other man turned and walked to join him. He looked tired, and Gavin hadn’t failed to notice how annoyed he was back in the meeting. He was clearly deeply unimpressed by all this, but Ray was so quiet sometimes it was hard to know what he was thinking.

“Are you going to join Michael?” he asked quietly.

“Not tonight,” Ray said flatly. “I’ll probably go see Geoff and Jack.”

Gavin bit his lip.

“He might want to see you,” he ventured, but Ray just shook his head.

“I don’t think so,” he replied, curtly. “Goodnight, Gav.”

He left quite abruptly and Gavin stared after him, a little upset. _He’s pissed with you._

_Fix this._

He rose and left the room after Ray only to pause as he looked down over the banister leading into the depths of the fortress. Below, the lights of the throne room were still on. He could see Midas standing down there, hands clasped behind his back, staring up at the dais and the big chair.

He’d been assigned a guest room, too, but Ryan had told Gavin to keep mobs outside the door in case he “tried anything in the night.” Now Gavin frowned, and headed down the stairs towards him.

Midas didn’t look up when Gavin came up behind him.

“It is strange being back,” he mused. “The biomes with their rigid definition… it is certainly very different to when I was here. Even the Wild… the destruction that was caused… the beautiful Woodlands lost.”

“It’s beautiful in a different way, now,” Gavin said.

“True,” Midas agreed.

There was a long pause. Servants moved up above on the walkways, casting long shadows along the wall in the dim light. It send a shiver down Gavin’s spine, reminded him suddenly of the Endermen.

“Your lovers are not very fond of me,” Midas announced abruptly.

“They’ll come around,” Gavin murmured, and turned to look up at him. Midas looked tired, too, and flushed with all the wine he’d drunk. His cheeks were dark with scruff and for a moment, for someone who claimed to be a god, he looked startlingly dishevelled and _human_. “How are you feeling?”

“Excited, still,” Midas replied, and finally turned towards him. “I was pleased to restore Ryan’s crown. And when they’re around you, they all seem to be fun people, if only they’d _trust_ me. But you must be happy - I saw you and Ryan dancing. It’s lovely that you can be together now - things will only get better from here, Gavin!” He gave him an enthusiastic nudge with his elbow, nearly knocking him over. “It’s okay to smile!”

Gavin smiled, but it faltered away again almost immediately.

“I want us to do this,” he said. The words slipped out without him really thinking of them, and Midas frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“What you said.” Now that he’d started, he had to continue - “Make sure everyone understands that this is how things are, now. Make them pledge loyalty to the alliance.”

He was imagining it now - Midas arriving in each town and citadel, winning the people over with his gifts of gold. A shimmering coin for each of them, a precious nugget. Gavin had seen how pleased the miners were today at a king paying so much attention to them. Soon everyone else would be, too.

“With your gift, you can show them,” he said. “Like you did today!”

“With my gift - yes, I would be happy to,” Midas announced. His eyes were sparkling now. He must’ve been worried, Gavin thought, about what might happen if the others continued to dislike him. “But the others didn’t seem keen on that idea.”

“They’ll like the outcome,” Gavin pointed out, and sighed. “They want more meetings, more talking… but so far those haven’t gotten us anywhere. This is what _needs_ to be done. As soon as Ryan builds the portals we can-”  
  
“Sooner,” Midas cut in.

“We can’t get to the Plains that fast. It’s at least two weeks’ ride.”

“Yes, we can,” Midas said. “Enderpearls - you can use them to teleport. Have you still got some?”

“Yes - here, actually! I brought them to the End with me.”

“Then we’re all set to go. We might need quite a few pearls to make the entire journey. Who else will come?”

“Just us,” Gavin replied, after a moment’s hesitation. The others wouldn’t understand. They still didn’t believe him. He needed to show them that _this_ was what he’d brought Midas back for - using his gift to bring peace and prosperity.

Midas nodded, slowly. He reached out and grasped Gavin’s shoulder.

“I like this idea,” he declared. “We shall continue our journey together! I will gather my belongings and get some of the Wither, and meet you by the back gate.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Will you tell them we’re going?”

That gave Gavin another pang; sneaking off into the night like thieves was not ideal, but he didn’t want to start another fight.

“I’ll leave a note,” he said.

Midas nodded again. He jostled Gavin and grinned at him.

“Everything is going very well,” he said, and Gavin managed to smile before Midas hurried out, leaving him standing alone and silent.

An odd guilt overtook him as he grabbed parchment and quill from by the throne before sitting on the steps. With the others sleeping, oblivious, expecting him to be in his own room, there felt something dishonest to all this. _Together. That’s how we’re meant to decide things._

But he hadn’t been lying before, with Jack. He was so _tired_ \- it felt like he hadn’t gotten a proper night’s rest in a long, long time, and the feeling wasn’t going away, leaving him sick and drained. Tonight with Michael and Ryan had been better - so much better. 

The longer they waited around, the more they would bicker and fight as they disagreed over how to manage things. Better for one person to force the decision, then they could all reap the benefits. Right?

Outside he could see the shadows of the Wither as they moved through the courtyard towards the gate. He called his own mobs gently with the gift, summoning them from their posts to join them on the journey. Then he began to write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Very cool map](http://whalehuntingboyfriends.tumblr.com/post/159015490989/staranon95-the-plains-the-alps-the-desert-the) for the story by staranon95 - thanks so much! <3


	16. Chapter 16

“I should’ve fucking killed him. You should’ve let me _fucking_ kill him!”

Ray flinched when Michael kicked over the table next to the throne. It was a thick, heavy thing made of solid oak, but it crashed right down the dais and shattered to pieces on the stone floor beneath. Michael stared down at it, shoulders heaving and fists clenched. He looked hungover and dishevelled and furious. It was just past dawn and they’d all been hoping for more sleep than what they’d just snatched.

Geoff didn’t so much as move at the commotion. He was still reading the letter, eyes scanning over it over and over again, Jack reading over his shoulder. Both of them pale and drawn. Ryan turned and stared impassively down at the broken furniture, before turning back to Michael.

“That was an antique,” he said, flatly.

“Geoff.” Michael whirled towards him. “We have to go after them!”

“They took Enderpearls,” Geoff replied, and finally looked up at them all, something hopeless in his eyes. “They could be anywhere by now.”

“They’re headed for the Plains,”Jack pointed out. “Likely, the capital. Gods know what they’re hoping to do there, but it can’t be anything good-”

He broke off, running his hands over his face. Something wrenched in Ray, but a moment later his attention turned to Ryan, who had his arms folded and was still staring at the shattered remains of the table. Ryan, the closest to Gavin. Ryan, who Ray would usually follow. 

Ryan who there was an odd rift with, now. The two of them hadn’t spoken since… since all _this_. Ray missed him - missed the way things had been going.

Now, Ryan turned and began to walk down the stairs and towards the hall. They hesitated - but when Ray followed him, the others trailed along too.

“Where are you going?” Michael called out. “We have to go after them and this time we need to kill him!”

“Gavin wouldn’t let him do anything too drastic,” Ray ventured.

“From the looks of it this is Gavin’s fucking idea!” Michael cried. He was working himself into an incredible state and usually Ray would’ve reached out to calm him down. Now he was quite sure he’d be shoved away if he tried. “Damn it - I should’ve seen this coming, he was acting so weird yesterday!”

“He’s scared,” Ryan spoke up, as he led them into the hall, “And misguided, but I agree with Ray. He will keep Midas relatively in check as long as they’re together. What I’m more worried about is the two of them disagreeing, or getting into some sort of fight, and breaking ties. Once that happens, Midas has nothing holding him back. Right now he wants Gavin’s approval - affection, even. That works to our advantage.”

He had reached the map spread out on the table by now. They circled around it, and Ray couldn’t help but appreciate how straight to the point Ryan had gotten, his gaze intensly focused as he traced a finger along the paper, nothing but determination in his bearing. That was the man he remembered, the one he _trusted_.

“Given what I know about Ender pearls and how far and fast they work, it would take a massive amount to get them from here to the Plains capital,” Ryan explained. “Especially since they have a whole army to take with them. They’re more likely to use them for crossing the hardest expanses of the Stoneworld, then any difficult terrain in the Plains, and travel on horseback or Gavin’s spiders in the meantime.”

“His mobs left the city,” Michael spoke up, “Or most of them did. My guards saw them, some hours ago.”

“I estimate they’re long past the border by now,” Ryan continued, tracing the path, “And they’ll reach these outer regions by this afternoon. It’ll take them a week at most to get to the Capital if they’ve got the pearls, but there are other cities in the region. They may be passing through those first. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Shit,” Jack hissed. “A week? They’re moving too fucking fast. There’s no way we can catch up to them.”

“Better to go sooner than later,” Michael grunted, and slammed a fist onto the table. “And when we find him, we-”

“We see what he’s doing,” Ray spoke up, surprising even himself with how calm and firm his voice came out. He hadn’t meant to butt in, but something in him just had to - couldn’t stand the thought of Michael continuing down the slippery slope they’d all been navigating since this began. “We negotiate with him, but firmly. Tell him he has to prove himself by waiting before making any moves, and that if he respects us he’ll listen to _all_ of us, not just Gavin.”

“The longer we wait,” Michael snapped, “The bigger the risk that he-”

“You want to start a fight with him when we can avoid one?” Ray demanded. “Be _smart_ , Michael. I know you can be. If it turns out we need to kill him, we do it later, when he already trusts us.”

Michael stared at him. He was past looking betrayed by Ray’s disagreement; instead a tired annoyance settled over his face.

“Oh,” he said, “So now you’re the one who doesn’t care about stabbing people in the back?”

Ray just looked at him with all the accumulated exhaustion of the last week, and after a moment of silence the anger deflated from Michael. His shoulders slumped, and he turned away.

“Let’s go then,” he began, but Geoff snagged his arm. There was a funny, resigned look on his face.

“Not all of us,” he said.

They all stiffened, turning to stare at him. Michael’s eyes were huge.

“What?” he demanded.

“Not all of us,” Geoff repeated, and took a deep breath, looking around at each of them, frowning at him in confusion. “We can’t all keep running off like this. It just isn’t feasible. Not right now, not after what just happened here. Ryan, you need to stay and organise your people. I should stay too - to help out, and to continue to manage the Plains council. To explain how I came back from the dead. It’s too exhausting to do that via the Sight when we’re on the road. Michael, you shouldn’t go just yet either. I’d rather you went to check on that beast in the Wild. Kill it, if you can, otherwise make sure it’s somewhere it can’t hurt anybody. We can’t leave it just roaming free in here for long and I’d rather deal with it sooner than later. The people will feel safer.”

“But Midas-”

“Jack and Ray will go after Midas.” Geoff looked at each of them. When his eyes met Ray’s he could see Geoff’s confidence and belief. It soothed something he hadn’t quite realised was troubling him, a nagging insecurity deep in his chest. “I think they’re more than equipped to handle him… and Gavin.”

Jack nodded, slowly. Michael looked like he was about to argue, but Ryan put a hand on his arm.

“Geoff is right,” he said. “It would be inefficient for us all to rush off after them. Jack and Ray are the best choice. We will catch up with them later - after we’ve dealt with our business here.”

Michael hesitated - but faced with all of them he nodded, shoulders slumping.

“Right,” he muttered. “Okay. I’ll kill the fucking beast.”

“Good,” Geoff said. “We’ll stay in touch via the Sight and the bond.”

“Claudius destroyed part of my lab,” Ryan said. “But I”ll see if I can find any Ender pearls to speed your journey. Otherwise, you should make haste packing and heading after them.”

“I’ll go get ready to go to the Wild,” Michael added, and marched out of the room. After a moment, Ryan followed. His eyes met Ray’s for a lingering moment and Ray realised with a jolt that he probably wanted to talk later. That was a relief - he’d worried the other man was still angry with him for opposing him earlier.

They were left standing in the empty hall with Geoff.

“I could stay here,” Jack offered. “You could be the one to go.”

Geoff shook his head.  
  
“I’ve been away too long,” he replied. And then, quietly, “He will listen to you, Jack.”

“He’d listen to you as well-”

“I was born into royalty. You weren’t. That might touch Midas in some way. It should be you. _Both_ of you.” He glanced at the two of them and some of Ray’s uncertainties must’ve shown in his face. Geoff stepped forward and grasped his good hand. “Ray - you’re alright with this?”

Ray nodded, swallowing.

“I think so, just - why me?”

“Your gift,” Geoff said. “Ryan told me earlier how it had developed. How much you can do with it now. You might be injured but you still have your magic. If we must restrain or stop Midas for some reason, you stand the best chance. You are powerful, too.”

Ray nodded, flushing a little. Geoff cupped his cheek and tilted his head up.

“Plus,” he breathed, “I need someone to keep an eye on Jack for me, right? Take good care of him.”

Ray scoffed out a little laugh, and Jack rolled his eyes. He leaned into Geoff’s warm hand, suddenly and intensely grateful that he was back, that he was _alive_ again, that they were all still here together. In the chaos of everything that’d happened, it was easy to forget just how _lucky_ they were.

“We can do this,” he said, and Geoff’s tired eyes brightened a little. He leaned in and kissed Ray softly, and Ray couldn’t help but smile. He liked that this was all becoming familiar - the rough scratch of Geoff’s stubbly cheeks, his calloused hands, the sharp taste of whiskey that lingered on his tongue even after they pulled apart. Geoff hugged him tightly.

“You should go say goodbye to Michael,” he said, and Ray nodded. He glanced between them and smiled.

“I’ll let you have a moment alone,” he said. They must want to discuss Gavin - they had known him the longest, after all, and when they realised he was gone and found the note Ray didn’t think he’d ever forget the look of sinking horror on their faces.

He left the room quietly and headed out towards the verandah that led to the archery range. Some instinct drew him there, thinking to find Michael, and a heavy sense of deja vu overtook him as he stepped out into the grey dawn light. Here was where he’d stood with Gavin, watching the storm in the torrential rain. Here he’d made the decision to turn on Michael and win the games for himself rather than for the two of them, together, barely even aware what he was doing.

Back then he could never have fathomed where they’d be today.

_You would never have thought Gavin would love you. That you’d love him._

_That Michael would love you back._

_You’ve always loved him. That has been the only constant. You still do. Gods help you, but through everything…_

He drew to a halt. Sure enough, Michael stood a little way down the landing, leaning over the rail, one foot kicking pensively at the wall in front of him. He must’ve heard Ray approach, but he didn’t look up. Ray swallowed, mouth suddenly very dry. He was nervous, but at the same time overcome by a resurgence in affection for Michael. Despite everything, he wanted to _fix_ this.

“You were right,” he called out.

Michael finally lifted his head. He turned to Ray, questioning now, and Ray could see that he was tired of this too. That he didn’t want another fight, not today, not after everything.

“About?” Michael ventured, and Ray swallowed.

“Not about the meeting, or the battle, not any of that. But when we stood in your way at the gates - when you said we should’ve said goodbye before the fight, said we _loved_ you… you were right. No matter how fucking furious we were, we shouldn’t have let you walk away like that. Gods know when Ryan nearly died I-”

He broke off with a choked noise. The thought of it was too much. Michael’s face softened a little, but he didn’t approach.

“Thought after everything I’d done you hated me by now,” he said, and Ray shook his head, moving towards him.

“I don’t hate you,” he insisted, urgently. “I love you, Michael. Always have. Always will. All of this, we’ll figure it out somehow. And then it’ll be _us_ again - _all_ of us, this time. I didn’t mean all that shit I said before, about your parents, about _you_. I know you, Michael, we grew up together. I fell in love with the boy who taught me to climb trees and won all the snowball contests. You’re still him.”

Michael was smiling, his eyes damp with tears. Ray stopped just in front of him, and tentatively took his hand.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew,” he whispered. “Before I go to face Midas and you go to fight the beast.”

“I know,” Michael said. “I always know. I love you, too.”

He leaned in and hugged Ray, gently, pressing a firm kiss to his forehead. Ray squeezed his eyes shut as he hugged him back, chest suddenly tight, wanting more than anything to just get this all _over_ with. There was more still to talk about, more to work through and forgive, but he set it aside for now, and let himself enjoy this last embrace.

 

* * *

 

Ryan hadn’t managed to find Ender pearls, but Ray came to find him anyway right before they left. He was striding purposefully from his office, about to leave the castle, and from the grim look on his face he was preparing to try and explain this entire messy situation to people who already had serious doubts about his leadership - but he stopped when he saw Ray, and turned to him, his careful mask crumbling in an instant. Ray gave a small smile; he was in his travelling clothes with a bag slung over his good shoulder. It all felt very poetic, this dramatic final parting.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, at the same time as Ryan opened his mouth to speak.

Ryan looked a bit stunned.

“Me too,” he replied, and Ray bit his lip, moving up to meet him.

“I know why you did it. I didn’t agree, but I do understand, and none of it changes how I feel about you.”

“You didn’t used to care. I distinctly remember you describing my previous execution of traitors as _badass_.”

Ray had to give a little snort at that.

“No, you’re right. I… things have changed the last few months.” He looked down, uncertain. “I guess I’ve been thinking too much lately about what sort of king I want to be. Who my _parents_ would want me to be. They’re questions I need to sort out for myself, and all this drama hasn’t helped. I just regret that it came between us.”

He peeked up and was relieved to find that all Ryan’s previous hardness, that impenetrable mask of the Mad King, had disappeared. There was nothing but gentle understanding on his face.

“You should tell me about them one day,” he said. “What they were like. Your childhood. I’d like to hear about it.”

Ray’s eyes widened.

“I’d like that,” he whispered, and when Ryan moved forward and pulled him into his arms he knew they were okay. Their kiss was brief but fierce, and afterwards Ryan cradled him close, their foreheads pressed together.

“Be safe, Ray. Bring him home,” he added, and Ray nodded, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. He reached out to Gavin in the bond, brushing against him gently. It was hard - he could feel the physical distance between them - the other man was transmitting nothing but a rock-solid determination, closing them out. He was too far away to break in.

But Ray nodded fiercely, filled now with resolve. They might be about to separate across the kingdoms, but as he pulled away from Ryan and turned to leave, he felt closer to the others than he had in days.

 

* * *

 

“They’re waiting,” Geoff said, as he came up by Ryan’s side.

They had left the fortress to instead call a meeting at the large parliament building where the biggest council sessions were held. As many people as possible were in there, Geoff knew - not just the councillors but the nobles, scribes and heralds, the foremen of the mines and farms. Anyone who would help spread the word, who could help to smooth this over. Honesty, for _everybody_ \- they owed the people that much.

Ryan nodded. The door was before them, leading out to where everyone waited, and Geoff could hear the faint murmur of their voices, the shift and rustle of their bodies on the seats. Ryan looked nervous. Usually he hid it well, but Geoff could tell he was struggling, and he reached out and touched his arm.

“What’s wrong?”

“Who do they want to see?” Ryan whispered, and turned to him. “The Mad King, completely in control, to assure them that there will be no uprising, no threat from Midas - that just as with Claudius, any threat to us will be cut down? Or do they fear that mien, now? Who should I present myself as?”

Geoff rubbed his back, pressing close to his side.

“No one,” he replied, “You don’t need to _present_ yourself as anyone as long as you stay calm, and collected. All we are doing here is explaining ourselves. Explaining the truth. The portals, the Nether, the End - and our relationship. _Honesty_ , Ryan - they don’t need to see the Mad King, but they won’t want some simpering phoney either. You are a capable ruler. A good man who has their best interests at heart but who has some that he personally loves, too. That’s all they need to see. And for most of them, that will be enough.”

Ryan nodded, but he bit his lip.

“It is easy for you,” he began stiffly, “Since you inherited you have always said exactly what you like to your people.”

“The Plains are different,” Geoff said, “I see that now, and I’m sorry that I didn’t before. But Claudius is dead. You arrested everyone who worked with him. It’s a new start. And I’ll be there, too, to assure them that you have the Plains’ support now, if not during the battle.”

Ryan nodded. He took a deep breath and Geoff let his hand fall to catch the other man’s, squeezing it gently.

“Ready?” he said.

 

* * *

 

Afterwards, they went straight back into Ryan’s chambers. Geoff flung himself into the nearest chair, Ryan made a beeline for the wine cabinet. Neither spoke for a stretch, both trembling with the last adrenaline that lingers after any great public speaking event.

Ryan moved to Geoff with a goblet. He took it gratefully - his mouth was dry, voice nearly gone from how much he’d just spoken.

Ryan didn’t sit. He moved over to the window, hands cupped around his own drink, staring pensively towards the Wild.

“He’s not at the beast, yet,” Geoff spoke up. “We’d feel it if he’d encountered it.”

“Should we have sent him alone? He took some golems, and some of his men, but…”

Ryan trailed off, and Geoff sat up a little in his chair.

“But what?”

“But I have the sudden feeling Michael might not use them.” Ryan turned to him, brows furrowed. “He really, really wanted to kill the Overlord.”

“But Midas swept in and did it,” Geoff murmured. “And again with Claudius.”

“Is that not how it works in the old stories?” Ryan said with a wry smile. “To prove himself, the young hero has to slay a dragon.”  
  
“And wins the beautiful maiden,” Geoff muttered. “Fuck, you’re right, after all this he… shit.”

“I fear I might be. But I also believe Michael can more than handle himself,” he added, and Geoff nodded.

Another silence fell. The issue had diverted them momentarily, but now they were left to settle and reflect. Geoff took another sip of wine and felt some of his tension ease.

“The court session went well,” he said.

The barest nod from Ryan.

“Acceptable,” he said.

“ _Good_ ,” Geoff insisted. “A… rocky start, but by the end I could see it in their faces. They are nervous about Midas, and trepidatious about-”

“ _Trepidatious?”_ Ryan exclaimed. It took him three tries before he managed to get it out without flubbing it.

“What? It’s a word!”

“I’m quite sure it is not.”

Geoff spluttered incredulously.

“Yes it gods damn is - if you’re filled with trepidation, you’re trepidacious! Just because you may struggle to pronounce it,” he added snidely, “Doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

Ryan broke into laughter, and Geoff did too. It shattered the last of the tension, and he rose and moved to lean against the wall near Ryan instead.

“They’re _wary_ about the alliance,” he continued. “But in a hopeful way. They are happy it’s you in charge, Ryan, and not Claudius.”

Ryan's lips twitched, and Geoff reached out and nudged his arm.

“Smile,” he urged. “You were great out there. You explained the portals so well, and I think they are not so _trepidacious_ about my return from the dead now that we’ve explained about the other worlds. They even took the relationship remarkably in stride. I think it helped to be upfront about it.”

“Perhaps,” Ryan replied, and drained the last of his wine before turning and going to slump down on his bed.

Geoff watched him, slightly uneasy with his curt response. Despite himself, he felt a sudden shyness. Was Ryan still angry about the battle? was he still unsure about the relationship? Things _were_ moving very fast, after all. Was Geoff pushing too hard?  
  
He lingered awkwardly - but Ryan turned to him and patted the bed beside himself. Perhaps too eagerly, Geoff hurried over and reclined next to him. There was a long silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable - Geoff waited patiently. He could see there was something still on Ryan’s mind, something he seemed to be struggling to express.

“Thank you for being there,” the other man managed, finally. “It made it easier.”

“Of course. I wanted to help.”

“During the battle…”

Geoff stiffened, uncertain - they’d both just been so _angry_. But Ryan’s face was not as hard as it had been over the last few days. He stared down at his hands, fingers twisting in and out of one another.

“I was very angry that you wouldn’t help,” he murmured. “But I was more angry that I thought you saw me the same way you used to. Cruel. Cold. The Mad King.”

“No, Ryan,” Geoff whispered, his last annoyance at the situation melting away in an instant at the vulnerable look on the other man’s face. “I was upset at the choice you and Michael made, but like I said - the Stoneworld _is_ different, and I can see why you did it. You are far from cold. The opposite. But it doesn’t matter now, it’s behind us-”

“It does,” Ryan replied curtly, and Geoff bit his lip. He reached out and squeezed the other man’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry I stood in your way,” he said. Once he might’ve been too proud to apologise, now all he wanted was this rift to heal. “I was being angry and petty. I shouldn’t have done that in front of the men.”

“I apologise for my part in it, too,” Ryan replied, and looked away. “I have had to think a lot lately about my loyalties, about the sort of ruler that I want to be. When I look back on it, _all_ of it… my control, the need for it, my kingdom… all of these troubles come back to going after you in the Nether. Logically, I shouldn’t have made the decision to devote six months to rescuing you alongside the others. It’s what weakened my position and allowed the takeover.”

Geoff bit his lip, unable to stop the wave of hurt that washed over him. The pain and fear of the Nether was still a raw wound that he was mostly trying to soothe with drink.

“But I can’t bring myself to regret it,” Ryan admitted, staring down at his lap, a fierce tremble in his voice. “Not even a little bit.”

As suddenly as it had sunk, his heart lifted again - Geoff stared at him, shocked by the frank admission of feelings.

“R-Ryan,” he managed, “I-”

“I feel stronger with you around,” Ryan continued, and looked up at him, his eyes burning and honest. “Like I don’t have to keep an iron grip on everything and I can be who I want to be. Who I might’ve become if my mother hadn’t been who she was, if she hadn’t died under those circumstances, if her council didn’t linger… It was good, today, the two of us in there. It felt _right_. That’s what I want - to rule freely by all of you! To be open about who I care about! But if it puts you in danger, if it makes you targets…”

He trailed off. When Geoff took his hand he didn’t pull away, just squeezed it back.

“That’s why I had to eliminate him, and all his supporters. He already tried to kill Gavin once, you know. I had to protect my decision. Protect all of _you_.” He looked at Geoff, earnestly, and seemed to relax a little at the understanding in his eyes. “Gavin thinks he’s doing the same by siding with Midas. But he doesn’t see, I think, that it’ll only hurt us more in the long run if things go wrong with him.”

“We will deal with that together,” Geoff assured him. “Later.”

“Together,” Ryan murmured.

He looked drained from all he’d just admitted, and Geoff reached out and put a hand on his cheek, turning him gently to face him. 

“I was proud of you today,” he murmured. “And proud to stand beside you.”

He stroked Ryan’s cheek before letting his hand fall to his shoulder. Ryan stared at him - eyes wide, lips parted a little - _then_ he smiled, small but real, and Geoff grinned back, relieved.

Today had gone well. They were so caught up in everything else going on that it could be easy to feel overwhelmed, to let the good moments pass by unnoticed and only focus on the bad. But it was nice, now, to take a moment just to _enjoy_ that for now - for now they had won. Maybe not for long, maybe there were still struggles ahead, but together, slowly…

He leaned in and pressed his lips to Ryan’s, kissing him gently. The other man shifted forward to deepen it. There was something strangely timid to his movements, to how once again he let Geoff be the one to take control, hands on his shoulders pushing him gently back against the pillows. It was good to be close, to remember the reason they’d done this, to finally have what they’d fought so hard for. What had kept him going all those long days in the Nether. For a little while, for now, he could focus on that, and set aside all the rest.

 

* * *

 

Michael took a deep breath as he stood before the gates of Achievement City. Behind him, he could hear the echoing clanks of the golems’ footsteps as they retreated back through the forest. Truth be hold, he’d’ve left them at the border if he hadn’t been worried about losing his way between the entrance and the city.

Yes, there was a broad path leading right to the gate cleared out by the tread of Gavin’s mobs.

Yes, his sense of direction was that fucking atrocious.

His own men had left, too - save Jeremy, who’d insisted on accompanying him at least this far. Now he stood, staring at the side of MIchael’s head. Michael knew exactly what he was thinking.

_This is a bad idea. A_ stupid _idea._

“My lord,” Jeremy began, nervously - Michael held up a hand to cut him off.

“Save it, Jeremy. I know. I’m an idiot.”

Jeremy looked embarrassed.

“I wasn’t-”

“I have an army. Why send them away? I hardly know myself, just… I have to do this. Not sure who I’m proving something to - Ray, myself, my father… everyone. No one. I think this may be how Gavin felt before he took the crown.”

Jeremy was silent for a long moment.

“Your mother,” he said instead, and Michael glanced at him, surprised.

“What about her?”

“The bear she killed had been terrorising villages for months. It was said to have a taste for human blood, to have demon eyes and be twice the size of any mortal creature. They said she was a fool to hunt it alone. Or so the story goes,” he added, a little sheepishly, for he had not been born yet at that point.

“You’re right,” Michael murmured; the thought stirred something in him - a warm memory of sitting at her feet before the crackling fire as she lounged in her great chair, drinking mead, her rough voice enthralling him with the bloody tales of her conquests.

Jeremy reached out and tentatively touched his arm. Michael jolted; it was a gesture familiar from when they’d both been in training, but one he hadn’t felt since inheriting. Few dared lay hands on a king uninvited.

“The gods smile on those who have great quests in their destiny. Who are called to vanquish evil,” Jeremy said.

“The gods don’t exist. To Midas, they’re _us_.”

“Not everything can be explained that easily. We don’t know who created the world and the tower,” Jeremy pointed out. “If you feel you’re meant to do this, I have no doubt you’ll succeed.”

He squeezed Michael’s arm, and Michael couldn’t help his smile. It meant more than he could say - just those simple words, someone _believing_ in him.

“Thank you,” he said - then added, abruptly, “Wait for me here? When I’m done, we’ll go back together.”

“Of course,” Jeremy replied, and Michael felt a fierce affection for him. He clapped him on the shoulder, and strode on through the gates.

 

* * *

 

It felt frighteningly silent in the city without the clamour of construction and with all the mobs gone.

Dan was the only one around. Michael found him up in the watchtower by the front wall.

“What are you looking out for?” he asked, as he came up behind him.

Dan glanced over his shoulder at him. He looked exhausted and stressed, Michael noticed. A thick blanket was discarded on the floor beside him. Had he kept watch all night?  
  
“Midas. The beast. The Wither, turned against us.”

“You don’t trust that they’re on-side? Gavin does,” Michael said, and was startled by the scowl that descended over Dan’s face. “Whoa, okay - what’s going on there?”

“Geoff sent word ahead,” Dan said, ignoring the question. “You’re here to kill the Wither king.”

“Yes - where is it? Gavin sent mobs to guard it, or so I heard.”

“Deeper in the Wild. I know where.” Dan turned and looked out towards the city instead. He frowned. “Where are your men?”

Michael swallowed.

“Just me,” he said, and Dan gave him an incredulous look.

“You’re planning to fight that thing alone?”

“Yes,” Michael said, and lifted his chin. “So what? Gavin did.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” Dan groaned, and put his head in his hands. “You’re fools. You’re all _fools_.”

“Excuse me?”

“Any particular reason you have a death wish?”

“I don’t,” Michael snapped, “And I don’t have to explain a damn thing to _you_. Just tell me where the fucking thing is so I can at least get one of our problems out of the way.”

Dan stared at him for a moment. Michael stared back, challengingly. There’d never been animosity between the two of them - probably, Michael realised, because of all of them he was the only one who hadn’t had animosity with _Gavin_ \- so he was startled by the anger in the other man’s eyes now.

_But not,_ he realised after a moment, _directed at you, not really. It’s something else. Something’s happened._

Finally, Dan shook himself.

“I’ll take you there,” he said abruptly, and bent and grabbed his sword from beneath his chair. He strapped it to his belt.

“You don’t need to come,” Michael grunted. “Just tell me-”

“I’ll _take you_ ,” Dan insisted, hotly. “I want to kill the bloody thing too. Might as well make myself useful in _some_ way around here. Besides, there’s no way in holy hell I’m letting you go _alone_. You’ll get killed and Ryan will freeze you in the red stuff and I’ll spend more of my life babysitting Sleeping Beauty while the rest of them go on a quest to get you back.”

“Fine,” Michael snapped. “We fight together, but the kill is mine.”

“Gods. You Alpine warriors,” Dan said, but didn’t argue as he led the way out. He insisted on stopping to gather more supplies than Michael thought wholly necessary - he hadn’t exactly been planning to stop for lunch along the way - but he didn’t comment.

Still. He had to admit, as much as he’d wanted his own personal quest, it was reassuring to have someone else by his side - especially someone who knew his way around the tangled jungle. As they moved deeper into the pathless Wild, the trees closed in around them until Michael could barely tell which way they’d come, let alone where they were going.

“So where is this thing?” he prompted finally, when they’d moved in silence for about half an hour. It was early afternoon by now, and the sun should’ve been high, but the canopy above them was so thick that they were moving by the light of redstone torches.

“It flew back to the farthest end of the Wild - beyond the temples, beyond even the End portal. We won’t reach there until the day after tomorrow at the very earliest. Probably even longer.”

“Tomorrow!” Michael exclaimed with a jolt.

“At the _earliest_ ,” Dan repeated. “In truth it will likely be quite a few days.”

Michael stared at him, and Dan cast him an amused glance. He patted his fat rucksack.

“Hence why I’ve brought supplies. The mobs have explored that area - it’s a mountainous region bordering on the sea that surrounds us all.”

“That’s further North than I’ve been in all my life,” Michael said, with a sudden thrill. “Hell, I’d be surprised if _anyone’s_ explored so deep in.”

“You’re right,” Dan said. There was an excitement in his eyes that made Michael feel suddenly very close to him. “It’s undiscovered country. Save perhaps that bloke who sailed entirely around the perimeter, have you heard of him?”

“Yes! He was from the Alps. An adventurer. I recall what he said - the oceans bordering the Wild are as untamed as the rest of it. Gods,” he added, “There’s more than enough adventure in our own lands without dragging other worlds into it!”

“One day someone will explore beyond the horizon. See what’s across the water.”

“They’ll fall off the edge,” Michael scoffed, dismissively. He had been convinced of this simple fact since childhood; where the map ended, clearly the world did too, leaving nowhere but the further drawing table of the gods.

“If Gavin is to be believed, there is no edge. The world is a massive cube and you merely flip over and begin to walk on another side of it. He likes nonsense like that,” Dan said - but the mention of Gavin, for whatever reason, had made his face cloud over again.

“So it’s up by the sea,” Michael prompted, “And the mobs are guarding it?”

Dan shook himself.

“Yes,” he said. “Gav sent a dozen Endermen to ward everyone off from the area. Not that there’s anyone around,” he added crossly. “The others are all hard at work gathering supplies for the portals. No one else is in the Wild - one day there are grand ambitions to restore the rest of the Woodland kingdom, but…”

“You don’t think it’ll happen,” Michael said - though some might think him a fool, he could read people when he put his mind to it. At least when it came to these sorts of matters. “Not now, not with Midas unleashed and the beast back - you see it as a setback, too.”

Dan looked away, jaw tight. Michael turned to him insistently. 

“Did Gavin tell you what he was gonna do last night?”

“No,” Dan snapped, “I wasn’t even in the fucking Stoneworld. I was back here.”

“He told me you were looking for him,” Michael said with a frown. “And before - the night he left to release Midas - you were the last person he saw. You told us not to worry - that he’d just gone to _pray_. Fucking hell,” he added, his ire rising as he began to put the pieces together, “Were you lying to us? Covering for him? You wanted to let him out, too-”  
  
“ _No,_ ” Dan snarled, abruptly. He swung his knife and viciously cut at a tangle of branches in their way - Michael reached past him and tore the entire limb from the tree with just one wrench of his hand. They looked at each other, faces close, both sets of eyes burning.

“No,” Dan repeated, and again Michael realised the anger wasn’t directed at him. Dan swallowed and lowered his blade, glancing away. “I’m as pissed about this as you are.”

It dawned.

“He didn’t tell you what he was planning,” Michael said.

“A step bloody further. He _lied_.” Dan angrily kicked a rock out of the way. They were marching downhill now, towards the same stagnant depths they’d traversed to get to the portal all those months ago. Every skeleton they passed made Michael jump. He kept thinking they were Wither.

“What did he say?”

“At first he asked me how I felt about letting Midas out. Naturally my first response was _what the actual fuck, no._ Absolutely _not_. He tried to debate me on it. I thought he just wanted to unpack both sides - that he needed my support so he’d know it was okay to leave him in there. I figured Gavin _didn’t_ want him to get loose, but felt bad leaving him. Never dreamed it was the _other_ way around.”

“So in the end…”

“In the end, he told me he was going to go and get his Endermen to destroy the portal. Said he didn’t want to distract you from what was happening in the Stoneworld, so not to tell you in case you came to try and help. I believed him. I had no reason not to.”

“Fuck,” Michael breathed.

“Fuck,” Dan agreed.

Michael bit his lip, uncomfortable. He loved Gavin, and he was annoyed about what’d happened - but not _angry_ with him, if only because he’d been so desperate to help Ryan himself that he could see Gavin was just doing the same, in his own way.

But Dan - Dan looked pretty fucking annoyed.

“He thought he was helping,” Michael ventured.

Dan sighed, and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “I know.”

“He tell you about Midas? What he said to him?”

“He did,” Dan said. “They’re similar. I can see why Gavin trusts him.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but hesitated. Michael waited patiently. Finally, Dan came to a halt - it was hard in this rough terrain to concentrate both on walking and talking.

“Gavin… hasn’t had an easy time of it,” he said. “You know that. He met Jack and Geoff by chance. Before that, many people were not kind to him. For a long time, he really had _nothing_ \- he was barely scraping by day after day.”

“Yeah, he… he told me some of it. I figured out the rest.”

“Since he became king, for the first time he’s properly in control of his own life. He doesn’t have to worry about it all getting taken away. Or he didn’t,” Dan said, ominously, “But then Geoff died, then Ryan’s crown was stolen… I think it’s been a big shock. He felt safe before. Secure. Now he doesn’t. That’s why he’s done this. I don’t like it, but I can see why.”

“We all can,” Michael said, “We’re not angry with him, Dan. Not like that.”

“Good,” Dan murmured, and a little of his tension seemed to ease. Michael felt quite sorry for him, suddenly. He’d been so close to Gavin - his right hand man, the only one here with him in the Wild, building it side by side with him. He must miss him since the others swept in and took him off on this grand quest.

“So how can we get through to him?” he asked. “You know him, Dan, in a way most of us don’t. Jack and Geoff might be closest to him, but you knew him _first_. How can we convince him Midas is wrong, here?”

Dan seemed pleased he’d been asked. He chewed his lip thoughtfully.

“I definitely don’t think we can trust Midas,” he said. “Not when he’s so ancient, not when they imprisoned him for a reason. But it’ll be hard for Gavin to accept that. I think Midas will show his true colours soon enough, and when he does - Gavin will come around.”

“I don’t want things to go that far,” Michael said softly.

“He loves you,” Dan assured him. “I think that will be enough, in the end. Enough to stop him being scared. Enough to bring him back.”

It wasn’t much of an answer. Michael gave a noncommittal sort of hum, but Dan turned to him earnestly.

“I think you’re good for each other,” he declared. “You keep him in line, but you don’t look down on him. He needs that.”

“He’s good for me,” Michael murmured with a fond smile. He couldn’t help but think of Gavin - sunny little Gavin who’d captured his heart from the moment they met. Gavin, who’d shown him levity and determination and _true_ courage.

“All of you,” Dan insisted. “Anyone can see you _work_ together. The people will come around, I’m sure of it. Gavin will see that, soon enough.”

They smiled at one another for a moment. Then Dan gestured back towards the Wild.

“Shall we move on?” he said. “It’s a long way to the coast.”

Michael nodded, slow and thoughtful.

“This is the part where you slay the dragon,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

They’d all had to prove themselves lately. Gavin too often, Ryan as well. It was his turn, now, to show everyone that _this_ was what they were committed to. Safety. Freedom. He would slay the monster and take back Gavin’s crown and present it to him. Invite him back with the others. _Come home_. Home, which was becoming clearer and clearer within his mind as Ryan worked on the portals which would seen have the others only a step away at all times.

Five kingdoms as one - they didn’t need Midas for that. They’d been capable of it all along.

 

* * *

 

They travelled quickly, and alone.

That’d been Jack’s decision. An army would’ve been slow to move, and looked too aggressive. Midas already teetered on a precarious edge between ex-mass-murderer and current-mass-murderer. The last thing they wanted to do was spook him.

By late afternoon they had reached the Plains border, where they stopped to rest the horses for a moment.

They had been silent most of the trip. It was hard, anyway, to talk and move. Ray sat on the ground now, picking at a loaf of bread. Jack was off in the Sight, and when he returned to himself, he came to sit beside him.

“Did you spot them?” Ray asked.

“I saw some lingering mobs who must’ve fallen behind. They’re well ahead of us, but we are going in the right direction.”

“That’s one good thing at least.” Ray set his food aside. He wasn’t hungry. He’d left the Stoneworld determined and fired up, but as the travel wore on, he had time to think and worry. And it’d be days if not weeks, yet, before they caught up.

Jack noticed, of course. He shifted close and pressed Ray’s shoulder.

“Alright?” he asked, quietly.

Ray stared ahead of himself, watching the mechanical working of the horses’ jaws as they pulled up grass to eat. Their necks bent low, like penitents in prayer.

“It feels like time is running out,” he murmured. “Like we should be savouring every moment that things are okay, but we’re not. We _can’t_. We’re apart; they slip away. I keep thinking about everything I should’ve done, but didn’t.”

“We have time.” Jack pulled him close. “We still have _plenty_ of time, we _will_.”

“I know, just…” he trailed off, rubbing at his eyes. “My parents died really suddenly, you know? they just got sick and before I knew it, I couldn’t-” 

He broke off, choked. It’d been a few years, but it still _hurt_. He didn’t think it’d ever stop. 

“Before that, I never dreamed things would turn out like this. Now that I can never see them again, talk to them again, I keep wishing I’d savoured the time we did have more closely. That I’d asked them more, learned more. They were both so busy with their duties that it was just difficult to find the time. But I keep feeling like now is the same. This is our _before_ , and we should be savouring it.”

Jack was silent, but his arm was warm around Ray’s shoulders, his body soft against his side.

“Sorry,” Ray choked out finally, “I’m being stupid-”

“No, you’re not,” Jack replied. Then, “Did you speak to Michael, before you left?”

Ray nodded.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s one relief, at least. There’s still more we have to say, but we didn’t leave on bad terms.”

“I didn’t get the chance to see him. It was all such a rush.” Jack looked down. “I wish I had. We got so close - it hit him hard when we fought, I think. Hit me hard, too, that he and Ryan might’ve thought us weak, or cowards. But there are different ways of being strong.”

Ray nodded agreement. Jack squeezed him again, and gave a small smile when he looked up.

“I’m glad you made up,” he said. “And, you know, I’m glad it’s you and I on this trip. Part of me is even glad we’re alone. We haven’t had much of a chance to be together just the two of us.”

Ray had to nod, a shy happiness rising up now. It was true; he felt close to Jack and Geoff after they’d sided with each other, but he still felt like he didn’t know them as well as the others did, if only due to the amount of time they’d spent together. Given how much longer Michael and Jack had had, it _was_ nice, in a way, that he had a chance to have the other man all to himself now.

“Time,” Jack mused then. “You’re right, we should savour every moment. These _are_ moments, despite what’s going on with all the others. You and I, here.”

“True,” Ray whispered, and leaned in to rest his head against Jack’s shoulder. The other man kissed the top of his head. The Stoneworld behind them, they gazed out towards the green expanses of the Plains, bright under the afternoon sun, the thick smell of pollen heavy in the air. Ray hadn’t travelled here much. A long adventure lay ahead - the two of them, riding hard and sleeping under the stars. _Together._

 

* * *

 

They travelled on. They were making good time, but it still felt like they were getting nowhere - in these parts of the Plains, everything looked the same, nothing but endless fields of tall grass stretching towards a flat horizon. Sometimes, it felt like they weren’t moving at all, but floating static in some dream.

It helped being with Jack. His talk grounded Ray - they shared stories of the others, those early years with Geoff, then Gavin. Ray’s childhood adventures with Michael. The time passed too quickly; before he knew it, night had fallen.

“Feels like we’ve barely moved,” he grunted, a little upset. The land around them was nearly identical to that close to the border.

Jack, more familiar with the kingdom, seemed to disagree.

“We’re actually much farther than I anticipated,” he said. He slipped into the Sight for a few moments, then returned - it seemed to come as easily to him by now as taking an old, favourite coat on and off. “They’re still ahead of us, but I’m pretty sure I know which city they’re headed to. They’re not going straight to the Capital.”

Ray nodded. The words gave him hope that they were at least making progress.

They built a fire near a little hollow of trees some way from the road, the circle of trunks breaking the night wind that’d sprung up. It was silent out here, and reminded Ray of the lifeless Desert at night - only the low hum of a nearby cicada and the crackling of the flames breaking the quiet.

He sat close to Jack, and felt a funny pleasure every time their arms brushed. The silence was comfortable; they’d talked most of the day.

Finally, Ray stirred. They should sleep soon, but he wasn’t quite ready. He reached for the others in the bond - Ryan and Geoff were calm, Michael nervous but steady. Gavin had distanced himself. All Ray could really tell was that he was alive, and trying very hard not to feel _anything_.

“Will you visit Gavin in the Sight?” he asked.

Jack looked up. His eyes widened, like the thought hadn’t actually occurred to him.

“You could track him down and appear. Talk to him,” Ray pointed out.

“If they know we’re coming, they might…”

He trailed off, and Ray grimaced. He wasn’t sure himself exactly _what_ they might do. Certainly nothing good.

“What about Midas?” he ventured. “You could appear to him and try talk some sense into him? Gavin implied in his letter that it was his idea to take off. Maybe we should be appealing to Midas instead.”

“Somehow I doubt he’d listen to us.”

“He might, to you,” Ray pointed out, “You weren’t born a king either. Granted, it wasn’t as extreme a change as Gavin’s, but…”

Jack nodded thoughtfully, but didn’t continue. But even if the idea wasn’t the best Ray had ever had, his curiosity was piqued.

“Did you ever feel unsure about ruling?” he asked, suddenly intensely interested. “After all, you’re not noble. Some people must’ve talked.”

“A little,” Jack replied, “But not really. Mine was a strange case - I’d been Geoff’s advisor for so long that people knew and trusted me. It was clear to everyone that I was in line to inherit if something happened. Anyone with eyes could probably tell we loved each other, too.”

Ray laughed a bit.

“So I was in a far better position than most others when I inherited,” Jack continued. “They were sympathetic to my loss and willing to help me adjust. But I’d known Geoff for so long that it wasn’t much of a shock to anyone. What about you, Ray? The news of your engagement, did that surprise people?”

“Not really,” Ray admitted, “Everyone in our kingdoms knew how close we were, and a union between the Plains and the Desert had been a long time coming. Actually, some minor ones had already happened. Some of my cousins are married to Michael’s.”

“The fuck. That’s kinda strange,” Jack said.

“Why? No one’s related to each other.”

“I don’t know, it just seems odd to me,” Jack laughed. “But anyway - we’ve been lucky so far, Geoff and I, that no one’s really talked or gossiped about us. But once they realise what’s going on with Ryan, they will.”

“What about Gavin?” Ray asked, a bit uneasily now that Jack had brought that issue up again. He kept thinking about the image Ryan had shown them, that terrible poster. He could see why Michael had lost control. He was fiercely protective of those he was close to.

“They don’t really know about our relationship yet,” Jack replied, frowning now. “They always knew Geoff and I were close to him - until the Games, anyway - but when he came to the Plains recently we… we kept it low key. But soon we’ll be open about it - and we’ll deal with whatever comes.”

Ray nodded. There was a long pause, then Jack sighed, reaching up and rubbing his face.

“I won’t go and talk to them in the Sight yet,” he said. “It’s something that should happen in person. I don’t wanna blow our chances before we even get to them by saying the wrong thing.”

He looked nervous, and Ray had the sudden feeling that he was putting this off because he was scared, too. As long as they were travelling, the confrontation was a thing of the future - something they didn’t have to grapple with just yet.

They settled into silence again, the fire crackling gently nearby. Later, when they slept, Ray curled up against Jack’s side, the other man’s heavy arm draped over him like a blanket, a warm and comfortable weight.

Despite being in a foreign country, alone, a terrible danger elsewhere in their world - he felt safe near Jack.

 

* * *

 

They rode on. The world around them began to change.

More trees, dirt paths and little fences with the paint flaking off, low cobblestone walls. They passed through small villages - the people in them astounded to see the kings. They bowed low as they passed - in these deep rural areas they would usually have spent their whole lives never seeing King Jack, let alone _Ray,_ and seemed intrigued. 

The sight of tiny children staring at them with their big eyes, of youths drinking in his desert garments with awe, made something clench in Ray’s chest. It was easy sometimes to see the ‘public’ as one big, conglomerate mass who caused trouble for them. But they weren’t - they were individuals, people themselves with families and fears and loves. That was who they were protecting.

On they went, night after day. Travel was exhausting at the best of times, both physically and mentally, but when it was accompanied by the thrill of getting to know Jack better, Ray didn’t mind so much. It felt like more than just a physical journey - it felt like falling in love.

They didn’t always talk about the others. Sometimes it was Ray detailing his gift, the study he’d done before inheriting - or Jack discussing economics. Other, lighter things - the plays they’d seen, the tales they’d heard, the legends and stories of their respective kingdoms. Ray loved Jack more than ever. He could see how he and Michael had gotten so close - Jack wasn’t soft and kind all the time. Sometimes he was rowdy, or startlingly sharp, unafraid to share his rather scathing opinions of various politicians from not just his kingdom but Michael and Ray’s, too. It was interesting to hear his thoughts on things that’d gone on when Ray was too young to really understand.

They paused one evening at the edge of the plateau they’d been travelling along. It was evening, and the sun was setting. Ray had to gasp as he stared out at the view. Below them, fields of bright flowers spread out towards a white city in the distance - not the capital, another fief, just as grand and ancient.

In the sinking gold light, the Plains below looked lush; tall stalks of grain swaying gently in the breeze, a myriad of colourful blossoms spanning as far as they could see. The whole place was brimming with _life_ , and it reminded him of his mother’s murals. In the Desert, it was impossible to find places like this outside the city gardens.

For a moment, he couldn't even speak, just stare out at it breathlessly.

“Ray?” Jack prompted gently. “We’ll head down there and camp below for tonight. We should make it to the city by morning if we leave at dawn.”

“It’s beautiful,” Ray breathed, and Jack smiled. He was beautiful, too, in the sinking light, even dishevelled from travel.

“Yes,” he agreed, “It is. We are all very lucky sometimes. We should keep that in mind, even when it doesn’t feel like it.”

He put a hand on Ray’s shoulder, and he leaned into it. Nearby, birds began their faint evening call, and the haunting notes sent a shiver down Ray’s spine. He was overwhelmed, sometimes, by the sheer scale and beauty of their world. And all the others, each guardian of their own biome. Each so different - but creating a fragile balance.

“You okay?” Jack asked.

Ray swallowed. There was a lump in his throat, and he barely knew why.

“When we find them,” he managed, “I don’t want to fight with Gavin. I’m sick of it. I’ve had enough - I’m sure he has, too. It might be inevitable that we argue, but I just… I’m waiting for all this to pass; I just want it to be _over_. I know it won’t be. Doesn’t stop me wishing.”

“There are sacrifices we have to make as king,” Jack replied softly, “But I promise we’ll be happy one day. We have to be. We’ll make it work - we keep fighting for this, we’ll make it _work_. Don’t lose hope, Ray. I know I do too sometimes, just - try?”

It was hard for any words to take away the dread, the exhaustion, the overwhelming pressure that seemed to hound them constantly. But it was easier in some moments than others, and especially right now before the beautiful view, with the other man by his side, eyes blazing and earnest. Ray turned and kissed Jack then, for the first time this trip - slow and deep, rich and passionate. The odd thought struck him that if Gavin was monitoring them through the bond, he’d feel this too -  his sudden surge of deep love for the other man. He hoped he was - that he did.

But for now, he stopped thinking about it, and let himself savour this one moment.


	17. Chapter 17

Midas was singing. 

He stood down in the river, bathing. Gavin could see him, if he twisted to look from where he sat in the grass up on the hill nearby, surrounded by his monsters, the Endermen’s simmering hate washing over him in waves - Midas bent with a bucket, lifting clear water over his head. Gavin watched it gush in rivets over his broad, dark back.

There was red spreading in the water around him, slowly running downstream. It wasn’t his blood. Not a drop of that had been spilled.

Now, Midas continued to hum his tune, and Gavin had to turn away, bringing his knees up to his chest and hugging them. He felt deeply uneasy.

He hadn’t washed yet, and felt sticky and grimy from so long on the road. It’d been a week since they left. _One week_. They’d been to three different towns - but he tried not to think about that, turning away and closing his eyes as he tried to force away the coldness that had begun to spread through his chest.

There was something haunting to the song, echoing from below, undercut by the constant trickle of the water. It was in some other language, and although he was sure it was meant to be a happy one, it kept rising in tremulous wails that reminded him of the screams from earlier today. And the cries, especially from the children-

He shook himself, trying to force the thoughts away, but they wouldn’t leave. People had been scared about the Wither, the mobs - and the two of them, golden gods questing across the land. They’d taken an indirect route to the capital, passing through some of the larger villages along the way. A few of them Gavin had recognised. The circus had passed through them when he was a boy. No one had recognised him, of course - but they’d all known the story of Midas.

He was a compelling speaker, and with the gold he’d brought many had willingly knelt before them.

_But the blood_. He was suddenly scared to open his eyes and look at Midas again, convinced that if he did he’d find the entire stream red. _The guards were scared of the Wither and scared of the mobs-_

_Scared of_ you-

And he was scared now, too, or something close to it. He couldn’t explain the feeling, as the sky grew darker above him and he grew too conscious of the empty Plains stretching endlessly to either side of him.

There were ghosts on these roads.

Here, in the middle of the kingdom’s loneliest expanses, bandits attacked travellers quite often. There was no one around to hear them scream. Gavin remembered being afraid of them as he passed through these areas as a boy, sitting on the roof of the circus caravans. Every trip blurring into one, a constant exhaustion hanging over the whole party, overcome by the vastness of the kingdoms. The Plains could get to you, out here where there could be nothing but endless grass in sight - like a dream where you were lost in the middle of nowhere.

Gavin shut his eyes again. He wanted to reach out to the others through the bond, but couldn’t bring himself to. Instead he sat, and listened to Midas’ warbling chant from below - like the priests in the old cathedrals making their evening worship; something archaic and nightmarish to it.

 

* * *

 

Michael lay awake, staring up at the stars. He could hear the ocean nearby, a constant vicious lap of waves breaking against the steep cliffs. He’d never been so far north in all his life.

He kept thinking about what Dan had said, about an endless ocean stretching on and on. What lay beyond?  
  
They were nearly at the summit. Tomorrow he would face the beast, and after a week of anticipation his stomach was buzzing with a low, excited feeling. It wasn’t at all like the evening before war, when a sombre melancholy settled over all the man, a knowledge that come dawn not all of them would return. No, it didn’t feel like that - but he couldn’t describe it.

He rolled over to look at Dan and found him sitting up beside their little campfire, staring into the flames.

“Can’t sleep?” he called out, and Dan jumped a little. He laughed, quietly.

“Feels like the night before my trials to become a knight,” he said, and Michael nodded enthusiastically - yes, that was it, that was what he couldn’t quite hit on. “I was so fucking nervous. Gavin slept with me. Not like _that_ ,” he added, at Michael’s raised eyebrows, “Just stayed with me all night. Don’t think I slept a wink. He kept telling me it’d be fine.”

“It’ll be fine,” Michael said now, and Dan huffed out a laugh.

Michael hesitated, then dragged his blanket closer to the other man. They’d gotten closer this last week, travelling together. Granted, most of the time they were just too wiped out to talk, but they got along. Michael thought Dan would’ve done quite well for himself in the Alps. He reminded him of a lot of his own men.

“You gonna live in the Wild forever?” he asked. Dan looked confused, but Michael had thought it was a fairly straightforward question. “After all this - what’s your plan? I think Geoff wants more people to start joining Gavin’s kingdom.”

Dan snorted.

“Gav would hate that. He enjoys not having to actually be that responsible! With the rest of us he’s not so much a king as head-of-the-mobs. Gus and Griffon did most of the organising. He’s too lazy to actually lead.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but a thoughtful look had passed over Dan’s face.

“It’s not what he wants,” he repeated quietly. “Midas has put it into his head that that’s what they should be aiming for, but Gavin _doesn’t_. He’d hate being in charge of the actual public.”

“The Wild can’t stay isolated forever,” Michael pointed out.

“Maybe just workers,” Dan suggested. “Miners to go into the ravines.” And then, after a pause, “I don’t think I’ll stay here forever.”

He sounded nervous, like it was his first time admitting it to anyone, and he glanced at Michael as though expecting anger. He found none; Michael had expected this, over this last week as he spent more time with Dan. Thought about him more, as an actual person and not just some extension of Gavin.

“You were good to give up a year of your life, just for him,” he said.

“He’s like my brother,” Dan said. “I love him, so I stayed. But it’s not everything, here. There’s no girls,” he added, and Michael let out a startled laugh. Dan squawked indignantly. “What? It’s true! Just Barbara and Griffon but neither of them… there’s no one around but the same half-dozen people! We get a bit sick of each other!”

“A fair point,” Michael said, terribly amused.

Dan smiled, but it faded after a moment.

“I do miss the Plains,” he said wistfully. “The Wild is home too, but the Plains were first. But as long as Gavin needs me, I’ll stay for him.”

“The portals will make things a lot easier,” Michael suggested, and Dan gave a vigorous nod.

“They will. It’ll solve a lot of problems for everyone. If only we could be focusing on that instead of bloody Midas. But we should try and sleep,” he added, and Michael realised with a jolt that it’d grown even later.

He nodded, but for a moment they remained sitting there. Michael’s stomach was churning again. He reached out to Jack and Geoff in the bond, missing them suddenly. Neither had visited him in the Sight - he knew they were busy - but he could feel they were okay. He wished he’d had more of a chance to make up with them before leaving, like he had with Ray - he still admired them both terribly.

_There’ll be time for that later_.

He felt them reach back with a calm that soothed him. Reassurance, positivity, their _belief_ in him strong and clear now. Later that night, when the fire grew dim and they could hear the banshee screech in the distance, sending a primal shiver of dread through their bodies - he held onto that thread. It helped.

 

* * *

 

At dawn Gavin and Midas moved on. 

Their supply of Ender Pearls was limited, especially with such a large army to transport, so they’d saved them mainly for the roughest terrain. The capital was a few days away now, as they rode on the backs of spiders. They came soon to farmland and cobbled stone walls.

A city loomed ahead of them. In the flatness they could see it from miles away. It was one of the larger ones in the Plains, the buildings mostly a rustic red brick, their sloping grey roofs all pointing towards the clear skies like arrows directing them to heaven. It was a neat city - structured, unlike the medieval sprawl of the Capital - _Ryan would enjoy the order,_ Gavin couldn’t help thinking as they approached.

It was beautiful. The thought struck him that he’d love to travel with the others one day - each leading a tour around their respective biome. They could enjoy the new sights in a way they weren’t able to now, caught up as they were in war and conquest.

Midas was certainly enjoying himself.

“An incredible work of architecture,” he declared, with all the expertise of someone who’d been trapped for thousands of years with literally nothing to do but _build_. “We must come back to all these places, Gavin, when we’re not in such a rush! I wonder if any of the cities of my youth still stand, or if the tower’s split destroyed them.”

“They’re likely nothing but ruins and artefacts now,” Gavin murmured.

Midas hummed sadly. Still - he seemed excited to explore, but the glee Gavin had thought he himself would feel at this quest wasn’t there. As they approached the wall, he felt nothing but the same sick dread he’d begun having each time they got near civilisation.

_It’ll be fine. He listens to you. Last time was an accident. As long as the guards don’t panic, as long as no one attacks - it’ll be_ fine.

Men and women working in the fields glanced up and did a double take at the sight of the procession moving towards them. Fear, panic, confusion - they huddled together, staring at they passed. Some gathered the small children working with them and fled, probably because of the mobs.

"Who are they?” Gavin heard as they passed. “That’s not King Geoff.”  
“Are we under attack?”

“I heard King Haywood has lost the Stone crown.”

“Those are monsters! It’s the Wild king, the one who came from here-”

“What’s happening with him now? Is he a friend, an ally?”

“I think we’re under attack. It’s an invasion, or maybe they’ve already won. We should go as far as we can - to the Alps, maybe…”

 

* * *

 

The Wither king had made its den at the top of what Dan called Black Mountain, the steepest point of the very northern edge of the Wild. A sudden, sheer drop around it led straight down to the ocean.

They’d been trudging up this slope for three hours when they finally emerged onto the surface, breaking out of the tangled, pitch-black jungle that gave the place its name.

Michael took a deep breath, and nearly choked. The air was rank with salt, stronger than any brine in the Alpine Sea. He turned and saw the cliff edge near him, and inched forward to look.

Up here, the crash of the waves was deafening, like someone striking a war drum each time the water lashed against the cliffside. The oceans at the Southern border of the Alps were beautiful - wild and fierce, yes, but inviting adventure with their blue silk ripples rolling out towards the horizon. Michael had been down there several times to see off whaling expeditions. Had once travelled some distance around the coast on a trip to take care of some pirates.

The Wild Sea was different.

It was an unsettling dark grey colour, foaming like the mouth of a rabid dog, and slimy dark tendrils of some water-weed hung through it like ropes. The waves were violent, striking the wall like fists. If anyone fell in they’d’ve been dashed against the rocks and killed in an instant.

Further out, the water became black as ink. Michael had no knowledge of science, but he was quite sure the sea was meant to be _blue_ , and couldn’t think why this one ought to be any different.

Dan came up by his side and let out a hiss of breath.  
  
“The water’s so bloody salty I doubt anything could live in there.”

“Gav’s mobs aren’t the only monsters in this world,” Michael murmured, thinking of the temple guardians - but he shivered as he stared out at the unnatural water and had the same lurking unease that he’d used to feel looking at the Wild. He was suddenly quite sure that the water _itself_ was the beast, and shuddered as he turned away.

“Come on. Let’s find this fucking thing and get the hell out of here.”

 

* * *

 

Gavin stood by Midas’ side. The majority of the city had gathered in the town square, and now knelt before them. It was a performance the two of them had played so many times by now that Gavin knew most of it by heart. There would be screaming, some tears, some fear, the guards eying the mobs warily, but no one daring to move.

This was a bigger city than the towns they’d visited before. People recognised him here - knew he was _Gavin Free_ , the king’s fool, the one who’d betrayed the Plains, betrayed the men who loved him. Leader of a circus of dancing beasts. It made him more self-conscious than he’d been in other places.

Midas was presenting gold nuggets to the town’s barons. They genuflected before him, their trembling hands outstretched. He’d turned the fountain behind him to gold, and the water arching up into the air in impossible streams of frozen metal glinted under the sun, a permanent reminder of his power. No one was about to test him.

Gavin felt awkward, lingering by the side with his arms folded. Everyone staring up at them fearfully didn’t feel quite as good as it had at the start. Now, he couldn’t help but notice some of the red-rimmed eyes and white lips. Others who eyed the gold greedily, clearly hoping they’d have some soon, too.

“My lord,” a woman’s voice called out, and Midas turned to see a young lady had moved forward. She knelt closer to him, offering a bouquet of flowers, and he beamed widely.

“My dear, thank you,” he said gleefully. “This is true fealty, and you will be rewarded!”

He took one rose from the bunch and turned it to gold, handing it back to her. She smiled and ducked her head, her plan clearly a success. Others who were apparently feeling ambitious began to rummage in their pockets for any similar offering.

“What’s going on here?” a voice rang out suddenly, and Midas turned with a frown.

Gavin’s heart sank. The town square bordered the cathedral, and emerging from its doors were a half dozen priests in their powder blue robes. Their faces pale, but fierce. He squeezed his eyes shut, the cold dread in his stomach spreading further.

 

* * *

 

The dark pit before them made Michael shiver. For a moment, one of the few times in his life, he was afraid. It stank like death, a deep gouge in the earth that was clearly recently made, surrounded by animal carcasses. The wild boars from the area, torn to shreds.

“In there?” he murmured.

There had been Endermen guarding the area. They stood back now, staring with their vacant purple eyes, a silent audience. Michael wondered if Gavin could sense this going on. Both he and Dan held flaming torches as they peered into the hole.

“In there,” Dan replied.

They glanced at each other, and Michael could tell he was shit-scared too. But he took a deep breath, and shoved it aside.

“We need to draw it out,” he said. “I’ll go in. When it chases me, you take the chance to wound it.”

Dan raised his torch pointedly and nodded. Michael took a deep breath, and thought of his mother in her fearsome cloak, facing beasts and bears and bandits. He stepped into the dark.

 

* * *

 

“I see you missed my arrival,” Midas said graciously, and swept a hand towards the crowds. “You may join the others!”  
  
“And who exactly are we kneeling to?” The high priest was an elderly man. Behind him stood four other religious, their faces scared but defiant, and one young novice who looked like she’d rather be hiding back in the cathedral.

Midas frowned, his hand falling back to his side. With that one motion the mood shifted, the crowd tensing as they seemed to realise things were about to change.

“The Golden king of old, returned from the End,” Midas declared, “And the Wild king. Your rightful gods.”

“Gods,” the priest repeated. His voice trembled a little, but he continued, “Not any god we know of.”

Gavin stiffened, but Midas just tilted his head.

“And pray tell, who do you worship?” he asked dryly.

The priest swept his arm back towards the cathedral.

“This church was built in honour of the goddess Goodwitch,” he said. “And a little beyond is the cathedral of the god of time, both part of the original pantheon-”

“The god of time,” Midas mused, and his face clouded over. “Not that asshole with the stick?!”

Gavin had seen statues and there was indeed a staff involved. Nonetheless, hearing their god described as ‘that asshole with the stick’ naturally made the priests’ faces darken.

“I knew him!” Midas roared. “He was gifted by the tower just like the rest of us. Well, all your gods are dead now. They can be killed like any other. If you worshipped them for their gifts, then you must recognise that the tower was what ascended them beyond any human level. You should kneel for us, too.”

Gavin felt a pang of frustration; Midas hadn’t explained the whole story about the tower and its past, about the division of the lands, about how things _used_ to be - and clearly the priests weren’t about to believe one man’s disjointed rambling over their centuries-old creed.

“You are no god,” the old man declared, and Midas gasped theatrically. Gavin felt mute and numb, standing watching this unfold like the tragic conclusion of a play.

“We are the same as your old gods,” Midas snapped. “Kneel, _now_ , and swear your fealty!”

“It is written in our commandments not to worship any false idols,” the man insisted.

Midas stepped towards them, radiating fury. The old man lifted his chin, and Gavin felt sick.

_Do something. You have to do something-_

 

* * *

 

Michael ran for his life.

He could hear the beast behind him, thrashing its way out of the dark cave. He ran faster than he ever had before, and finally broke out into daylight. Its next scream made him fall, momentum sending him skidding across the ground, ears ringing and head exploding with pain-

Another scream choked the last one out. This time it was a shriek of pain, and Michael rolled onto his back to see that the beast was ablaze. It looked like a hell-demon, lit up in flames. As it emerged from the cave Dan had struck it with his torch. Its fleshy wings were on fire, and it writhed and rolled about on the ground to beat them out.

Michael scrambled to his feet. He threw his own torch aside and drew his sword instead, ready to fight-

 

* * *

 

“Kneel,” Midas ordered again.

“No,” the priest replied, his chin lifted.

Midas stared at him for a long, frozen moment. _What will he do?_ Gavin thought, a growing dread building in his stomach. The crowd behind them was murmuring uncertainly.

Then Midas began to laugh. He reached out and touched the wall of the cathedral beside him. It turned gold under his touch, and spread - more, and more, the entire building freezing over into shining metal. The priests recoiled, horrified.

“Your gods are nothing but ghosts now,” Midas spat. “ _I_ am here - real, alive, I have the gift - your temples and worship are nothing! I can turn anything to gold, living or dead. I suggest you _kneel_.”

“We will not,” the priest whispered, hoarsely. None of them moved, save the novice, who reached to grab the hand of the priestess next to her. She looked terrified, and Gavin bit his lip.

“Midas,” he began softly. “They can be respectful to us as kings without giving up their faith.”

“Their faith is a lie. What’s before their eyes is real.” He stepped forward, and Gavin could see the intense anger burning in his dark eyes. He reached out and grabbed his arm.  
  
“Midas-”

 

* * *

 

“Dan!” Michael called out, and pointed up at a tall tree just behind the cave, thick with branches. Dan nodded, already moving to climb it while Michael ran towards the beast with a furious roar.

He swung his sword, continuing his charge despite how it roared again, loudly enough to make the ground tremble and his ears pop. It blocked his blow with his talons, meeting his blade with a _crash_ that rocked his arm. Its other fist swiped at him, but he leaped back before darting in again, stabbing towards it.

It flew up into the air, and Michael looked around. A large, fallen log was nearby. He seized it and heaved it from the ground with one hand, flinging it into the air with another furious cry. It struck the beast and knocked it back through the air several metres before landing with a thud on the ground.

The beast screamed again, and swooped down from the sky towards Michael like an eagle lunging for its prey-

 

* * *

 

Gavin strained to hold Midas back, his grip tight on his arm. But he was a big man, and Gavin couldn’t stop him from physically shaking him off and sending him stumbling backwards. Everyone’s eyes were on them, and Gavin surged forward and grabbed Midas’ wrist again.

“The Wither killed the guards in that other town because they panicked and fired at us,” he hissed. “That was a unfortunate accident. We didn’t come here to _murder_ people.”

“You said you wanted this,” Midas spat. “You said we would make them kneel and show them the new order.”

“Let me talk to them,” Gavin insisted. His heart was pounding and he was overly aware of where their bodies were pressed together, of Midas’ warmth against his. How much they were _touching_. “The new order is not everyone _worshipping_ us, it’s their fealty to the allegiance. To this unity. That’s what they are swearing to - not us personally-”

He broke off with a gasp when Midas whirled around and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“I thought you _understood_ this, Gavin,” he cried, betrayal in his eyes. “That you deserve this, _we_ deserve this-”

“Yes, but they’ve never seen us before in their bloody lives!” Gavin cried. Midas’ grip hurt where it dug into his arms. “It takes more than a show to convince them!”

Midas shoved him roughly back and Gavin stumbled. He looked up and his stomach dropped at the darkness in the other man’s face.

“Oh,” Midas said, “The show hasn’t _started_ yet.”

 

* * *

 

At the tip of the world, Michael clashed blades with the beast. He was intently focused as he ducked its three heads with their gnashing teeth, coming at him from all sides.

They were retreating further and further toward the cliff edge. He didn’t realise until he took another step back and felt rocks skitter and fall away from under his feet.

_Fuck!_

The plunge behind him was too close, he couldn’t get away with the banshee bearing down on him-

But Dan was in the tree now, with his bow raised. He fired a flaming arrow that struck the creature in the juncture of its shoulder. It screamed and turned towards him, shooting up into the air and heading for him where he crouched on one of the thick branches-

 

* * *

 

Midas flung Gavin angrily away when he grabbed for him again. Gavin seethed and summoned his mobs - felt the zombies move forward, the draugr raise their bows, but it was too late. Midas was already marching forward and seizing the priest by the throat.

The crowd’s screams drowned out the old man’s as Midas slowly turned him to gold. Another horrid spectacle - even worse, this time, as the rest of the religious clutched at each other, yelling and crying.

“I will gladly make martyrs of the lot of you,” Midas roared.

The town guards seized their weapons, but the Wither instantly turned and shot two of them, arrows burying deep into their chests and sending them crumpling to the ground. More screams rang out from the crowd, the people hugging one another as they stood too scared to move, and Gavin could only stand, frozen, as-

 

* * *

 

-the creature swooped towards Dan. Michael ran forward and leaped, grabbing the nearest tree branch and launching himself into the air with his sword raised. The diamond blade plunged deep into the creature’s back and it screeched, writhing. Michael held tight, clinging to the hilt as it swooped higher into the air, and higher still, its three heads thrashing.

He twisted the sword deeper in, holding on for dear life as it flew up with him still clinging to its back. Below him he could see the dark, jagged edge of the Wild. The tumbling sea around it.

The beast began to falter, its injured wings unable to bear both their weight. As it began to plummet towards the ground, Michael yanked his sword free and let himself fall, crashing through several layers of the trees before he caught himself on a branch. The momentum wrenched his shoulder, but he ignored the pain as he dropped to the ground in time to see the beast land on its knees.

It tried to rise, but stumbled, right by the edge of the cliff. Its heads were thrown back in agony, letting out whimpering little cries.

Now that he had the chance to properly look at it, Michael noticed that its centre head was wearing Gavin’s Wild crown. He took another deep breath and pulled his aching body up to raise his sword once more and run towards it, eyes fixed on the glinting-

 

* * *

 

-gold statue fell to the ground with a _clang_. But Midas wasn’t done there - he turned to the rest of the priests.

“Kneel,” he commanded. His voice was like thunder.

The novice dropped to her knees. She was sobbing, her shoulders shaking violently. The others stood, chins lifted even as they trembled, standing like lambs waiting to be slaughtered. Midas strode towards them.

“Stop,” Gavin said, quietly.

Midas didn’t. He walked forward with one outstretched hand and-

 

* * *

 

-swung his sword hard, cutting off all three of the wilting beast’s heads in a single swipe. The crown flew free, and Michael caught it in his free hand as the body tumbled backwards off the cliff. Down, down, down it fell, only to be swallowed by the lashing waves, the sea consuming it like a wild beast gulping down some prey.

Michael stood, breathing heavily as he watched the ocean continue to wash away any last trace of the creature. Then he fell to his knees and started laughing uncontrollably. He was aching and tired, but not too badly hurt. Relieved that this was over, shaky with the adrenaline fading - but the crown was warm in his hand, and as he took a moment to catch his breath, he was prouder than he’d felt in a long time.

 

* * *

 

They’d left the town behind them, but Gavin’s mind was still back there. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d watched Midas go to one priest after another while the rest of them stood, watching helplessly. And Gavin - Gavin hadn’t intervened, scared that the hand would fall on _him_ next.

Now he dragged one foot after another as they trudged along the road. He had the sickening feeling that the others were right - a lurching dread that kept rising up again and again.

“You’re angry with me,” Midas said finally, the first words spoken since they’d left.

Gavin didn’t look up at him. When Midas jogged to his side and reached for him, he twisted away, stepping out of reach.

“Gavin.” Midas sounded distressed. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologising to,” Gavin said, stiffly.

“I’m not sorry about what I did back there to those priests,” Midas clarified, “But I’m sorry about grabbing you and pushing you. I just got a bit caught up in it all.”

Gavin glanced over at him. Midas looked earnest, but his obliviousness was infuriating, and Gavin only felt even more angry.  
  
“That’s not what I fucking care about,” he spat. “For gods’ sake, Midas, that is _not_ what we’re doing here! The others were right about you. We don’t kill innocent people. We _don’t_.”

“Back when we left,” Midas argued, “You said to me - _with your gift, you can show them_. That’s what you _said_.”

“I meant that you can give them gold and make them realise the prosperity the alliance will bring!” Gavin snapped. “I didn’t mean turn _people_ into gold - especially innocent, unarmed people, and for no reason than just becuase they don’t believe we’re gods! Hell, _I_ still don’t believe we’re gods!”

“So what do we do if we meet someone who refuses to swear allegiance, hm?” Midas argued. “Someone who’ll probably cause a problem for us later on?”

“Well they bloody will now after hearing about what you just did!”

“What do we do?” Midas insisted. “Just ignore them? Say _oh, that’s okay then_?”

“Then you give everyone else riches but not them,” Gavin said, though he felt a bit flustered at the question.

“It won’t work on the nobility,” Midas said smugly, and Gavin threw his hands up.

“It’s not as simple as just kneeling or not kneeling-”

“Yes, it is,” Midas snarled, and took a furious step towards him. “You are a _king_ , Gavin - kneeling is a sign of _respect!_ You think the others would not punish someone in their court who refused to bow as they passed? Hm? You think Ryan would stand for that? Geoff, even?”

Gavin didn’t know what to say.  
  
“A king,” he managed finally, “But not a _god_.”

Midas didn’t look like he agreed with that, but apparently he wasn’t in the mood to fight. He turned away and continued walking.

“We will reach the capital soon,” Gavin murmured. He felt guilty about not doing more to stop Midas, and felt the need to give him some sort of stern warning, but he was too scared to full-on threaten him. As such he was reduced to passive aggressive vagueties. “I’m starting to wonder if this is such a good idea.”

Midas stiffened.

“Sacrifices are necessary,” he snapped. “After this, you can _be_ with the others! And after what happened in that city, trust me - no one will _dare_ rise up against us. Those people could have caused us major problems later on.”

“We don’t know that-”

“We _do_ ,” Midas spat. “It happens time and time again! Didn’t you tell me someone tried to kill you in the Stoneworld? Tried to kill Ryan, _twice_? There will be people who hate the idea of the alliance, of us rewarding the common folk. They are not beyond trying to hurt us, and refusing to kneel is only the first sign. I’m keeping us _safe_.”

“In the capital,” Gavin repeated insistently, “It can’t happen again. It _can’t_ , Midas.”

There was a tense silence. They’d both stopped to stand frozen in the open space of the road, facing one another.

"Alright,” Midas grumbled finally, but he sounded cross, and when they started to walk again Gavin was careful not to stand too close to him. His dread had only increased, and the air around them felt heavy, the sun too hot overhead. It reminded him of the Nether’s hellish humidity. 

Suddenly, it was very hard to believe that this would all turn out okay.

 

* * *

 

Dan came up by Michael’s side as he sank to the ground to rest, rubbing his sore shoulder. The Wild crown was placed reverently on the ground beside him.

He’d built up the killing of this beast in his mind, and he was pleased to find that succeeding lived up to all his expectations. He was victorious - he’d _proved_ himself - and he felt now that he was finally at peace. Like his parents would be proud, like he was _strong_ again after feeling helpless for too long. It made him calmer, made him ready to work together with the others again. No more getting caught up in petty quarrels.

He sent those pulses of pride, joy, _peace_ back through the bond - and felt the others respond, stirring with answering tendrils of joy and exhilaration. Pride. Jack and Ray felt exhausted, so it was good to feel that begin to switch into happiness.

He reached out in the bond for Gavin, only to frown. The other man was still closed off, but as Michael pushed towards him he caught flashes of bitterness. Gavin was unhappy - angry, maybe - they were churning, negative feelings, and left a sour tinge in his mind. Michael felt a sudden protectiveness.

The beast was dead.

It was time to go to him.

He opened his eyes and looked up at Dan, who was crouched before him and staring questioningly.

“You okay?” Michael asked, looking him up and down. He didn’t think Dan had been injured in the fight, but things had gotten so confusing it was hard to tell.

Dan nodded, and Michael was satisfied he seemed unharmed.

“Ryan’s been working on the portals,” he said. “With the beast dead we’re all going to travel to the capital to intercept them. Ray and Jack will probably get there first, but if the portals are working we should be able to catch up.”

“Okay,” said Dan.

“You should come,” Michael continued. “I think he’d want to see you.”

Dan pressed his lips together. After a moment he rose and offered Michael a hand, pulling him easily to his feet. For a moment they stood, clasping one another’s arms, staring at each other with that particular intense camaraderie that can only grow from fighting for your lives side by side. It was nice to feel Dan’s firm grip on his arm, to meet his firey gaze. None of Gavin’s people treated them like kings, and Michael almost preferred that. Maybe it wasn’t functional in court, but it was nice. It made him feel more human. He didn’t _want_ to be a god, no matter what Midas said - to be up on a pedestal above everyone else. This, here and now - Dan’s genuine respect - felt real. Was worth far more.

“I’ll come,” Dan said, and Michael nodded with a smile.

 

* * *

 

The last few days had been tiring in a different way as Ryan reorganised his city, held new council elections, and had the chief engineers and schoolteachers briefed about the portals so they could spread word of exactly what was going on to the people. He was getting enough sleep, but he still woke up every morning feeling like there was an overwhelming amount to do.

But now - now he was finally beginning to feel like things were on-track and before long everything would be under control again.

This, of course, was right when Michael returned.

Ryan and Geoff were talking together when Michael stepped through the new portal he’d built along one side of the throne room. It had a redstone switch to activate or deactivate it for safety - something he’d done as an experiment but which had to his surprise and delight worked immediately. As of yet, it was being kept open, in case any of the others had to use it.

They both looked up when he emerged, accompanied by a surge of magic they could all feel in the bond - like a gust of wind had swept through the room. Dan was right behind him, and they’d both clearly just come from spending over a week straight in the Wild. They were grimy and unshaven, with stringy hair. Ryan had to stifle a laugh; the look didn’t suit Michael much. There was a leaf stuck in the back of his hair and his scraggly beard was bordering on hilarious.

But he was relieved to see him - he’d felt Michael kill the beast, but he missed _all_ the others, far too much. It’d been good just having Geoff around, helping him sort things out - but he wanted the others. Especially Gavin - his being so far away and closing himself off from all of them was very difficult, too. But Ryan was glad that Michael was back, especially after how the other man had supported him earlier, and he rushed over to him.

“You did it!” he exclaimed.

Michael lifted his bag from his shoulder and wave it triumphantly.

“I have Gav’s crown,” he declared, “The beast’s dead as dicks, and I’ve learned that I’m apparently not able to identify poison ivy from the sorts of leaves that are safe to wipe your ass with.”

Geoff howled with laughter. He had come up with Ryan and now grabbed Michael and hugged him close, heedless of his dirty clothes. He kissed him on the forehead, then on the lips.

As soon as he let go, Ryan pulled him in to embrace him tightly as well. He didn’t have to think about it - there was no one else in the room, no one watching but Dan.

“You going alright?” Michael murmured against his shoulder, squeezing Ryan tightly too.

“Yeah,” Ryan replied softly. “I’ve dealt with most things here and it’s all going well. I shouldn’t count my chickens before they hatch, but the court’s stable for now and we’ve worked things out with the Plains.”

“Good.” He pulled back and glanced between both of them. “Then it’s time to go and get Gav.”

Dan, behind him, waved, and they turned towards him, nodding in acknowledgement. Geoff looked especially pleased that he was coming along.

“It’ll be good to have you with us,” he said. “Everything okay in the Wild?”

“Don’t worry,” Dan said with a wry smile. “We’re not about to rise up against him! Although we’re not particularly impressed with how this has played out.”

“He wouldn’t listen to us,” Geoff replied, “But he might listen to you.”

“He feels upset,” Michael added. “More than he did before. I think something might’ve happened.”

They nodded. Ryan had felt it, too. But there wasn’t much they could do about it, not so far away. He instead reached out and gripped Michael’s arm.

“Later on you can tell us the story of how you killed the beast. I’m looking forward to it. In the meantime, we have a couple of hours until we leave. Geoff and I are mostly prepared, but you two wash up first. Shave,” he added with a laugh, “And eat something. Then we’ll set out.”

“I could do with a bath,” Dan said, scratching his beard. A large beetle crawled out from under the lapel of his jacket. Ryan charitably did not comment on it.

Geoff was too busy staring at Michael’s face to notice.

“Yeah,” he said, “That beard is fucking atrocious!”

“Excuse you! It’s manly!”

“It looks like scraggly pubes stuck to your chin.”

Michael gasped, offended.

“You’re one to talk,” he shot back, “Jack told me all about your circus ringleader moustache. Drew a picture and everything.”

“It was in _fashion_ at the time, okay?” Geoff screeched.

Ryan couldn’t help but laugh helplessly. Any dread he felt at their upcoming quest was drowned out by happy he was to see the others, and especially to realise there was no bad blood between Geoff and Michael. They all seemed relieved, and the two men embraced again before Geoff pushed Michael towards the stairs leading up to the living chambers.

 

* * *

 

Ryan sat on the edge of his bed, staring around at his room.

For years he’d kept it in perfect order, the desk cleared after each use, every book’s spine kept perfectly in line with the front edge of the shelf.

Now it was in disarray. Not chaos, but a level of mess that once would’ve irked him. Instead he just found it comforting - Geoff had left a bottle of of wine and two goblets strewn on the table by the fireside. The desk was covered in maps and papers. A pile of creeperskins lay discarded over the back of a chair in the corner, left over from the battle. Sometimes, when he turned too quickly, he glimpsed it in the corner of his eye and got a little shock, momentarily thinking that it was Gavin.

_Gavin_. He felt a deep ache in his chest, and tried in vain to force it away. _If I hadn’t let my fucking kingdom fall apart, he probably wouldn’t have done this_.

What hurt the most was that he’d asked Gavin not to. They all had. And he’d done it anyway, and-

_Is this how the others felt, when you went to war?_

The door opened, and Geoff came in, dressed for travel. Ryan rose and went over to him, pulling him into a sudden, tight hug.

“Whoa - you okay?”

Geoff seemed shocked. Ryan couldn’t blame him. Even if they were together now, he still wasn’t given to impulsive bursts of emotion.

But it was so _nice_ , to feel Geoff’s warm and comforting arms around him - know that he could have that now, whenever he wanted. After a lifetime of holding himself at a distance from everybody, he felt like a man lost in the desert stumbling at long last upon an oasis.

They pulled apart and he nodded, tugging Geoff to sit with him on the bed.

“I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Geoff said - Ryan gave him a withering look, and he laughed. “Sorry, I say that to Gav too much. Doesn’t quite fit as well with you.”

“Thanks?”

“You smarticle particle,” Geoff said, nudging him with his elbow. Ryan stared at him, then rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“I was thinking,” he repeated, “About Gavin, actually. You know, it was strange having him here to work on the Nether portal with me - back when you were gone. Arguably, he was in the deepest grief - save Jack - and I was in the least. I hadn’t known you as well. But together, we… it just felt _odd_ , I guess. We’d reconciled, but there was still a tension. Something that felt unfinished between us. And when we were down in that lab, working together - it felt like what I had promised him during the games.”

“You wanted him to rule by your side,” Geoff said.

“Yes. Sometimes I wonder - if he hadn’t been lying back then, if things had played out as I wanted - might we still all be allies? Would we still have come together like this? Or is it only because of the betrayals, the dangers, even the _deaths_ , that things have worked out as they have?”

“You are veering into dangerously existential territory here,” Geoff warned, and Ryan barked out a laugh.

“I know. I should just be happy that things worked out _relatively_ well so far. I suppose what I’m getting at is, perhaps even this new trouble has helped in some way. After all, it gave us a beast for Michael to fight, removed Claudius as an outside force, and made us finish most of the portals quicker.”

“And we got free cake and free gold,” Geoff supplied.

“I like how you put the cake first!” Ryan snorted. “But essentially, yes.”

Geoff was quiet, mulling this over. Finally, he reached out and poked Ryan in the chest.

"You are _so_ fucking different to when we first met,” he announced, and Ryan had to laugh again.

“I feel like I suddenly have so much space,” he said. It was poorly articulated, but Geoff nodded. He wrapped an arm around Ryan’s shoulders and tugged him close, kissing the top of his head.

The door opened again. Michael walked in this time, fresh from the bath. That horrendous beard was gone, and now that he was clean and dressed well again, Ryan noticed that his eyes had a brightness to them that hadn’t been there before. He was practically glowing. Killing the beast had apparently done wonders for him.

“Holy shit,” Michael said, as he bounced into the room. “I saw that pile of green clothes in the corner and got the fright of my fucking life. It looks like Gavin.”

“I’m sure he’ll be flattered to know you think he resembles a chair,” Geoff drawled, and Michael rolled his eyes, elbowing Geoff as he squeezed in between them. He looked tired, even if he was smiling. Ryan would be glad when this ended and they could _all_ rest. Preferably together, between other… activities.

“So are we leaving or…?”

“Ray and Jack are nearly at the capital. They’ll contact us as soon as they get there, and we’ll agree where to meet,” Geoff said.

“And the portals?”

“Although it’s fastest if I make them, anyone with the training can create redstone circuits,” Ryan explained. “I sent over the portal plans and Lindsay had one constructed in the Plains capital. It should work.”

“Good,” Michael said. “And if negotiating with Midas doesn’t-”

“We calmly vote on what to do next,” Geoff jumped in.

Ryan was glad he’d spoken up. The last thing he wanted was another argument so soon after the other man had returned. Michael seemed to agree - he nodded, then leaned his head against Geoff’s shoulder and reached out to tangle his fingers in Ryan’s.

“So what’d you two get up to while I was away?” he asked. “Fucked in every room in the fortress?”

“I wish,” Geoff snorted, as Ryan felt his own cheeks heat. “Council meetings and constant paperwork doesn’t set much of a mood.”

“Once Midas is done,” Michael declared, “Get this, you ready? _Six-way_.”

“Glad you have your priorities straight,” Ryan snorted, but the thought, even as a joke, shot a thrill through him.

_All six of us together._ Even since Geoff’s returned, they hadn’t _had_ that, Gavin had left so soon. But soon - and with the portals’ help - they’d all be able to spend time in one place.

Definitely opened some possibilities.

Geoff chuckled, but before they could continue down _that_ line of conversation, Jack materialised in front of them in the Sight.

He, too, bore the brunt and wear of two weeks’ travel. But far more significant than his dishevelled clothes or tremendous beard was the dark, haunted look in his eyes.

“We have a problem,” he declared, and they all sat up in alarm, their good humour dissolved in an instant.

“What?” Geoff demanded.

“They didn’t go straight to the Capital, “Jack said grimly. “They’ve been taking a path through various other cities in the area. Midas is out of fucking control. His mobs killed the town guard in one village, but Pimberton - the big city a few days from the Capital? He murdered half a dozen priests in cold blood!”

Ryan sat, frozen, an icy hand clutching his heart. Beside him, Michael trembled with fury.

Geoff stared at Jack, a numb look on his face.

“How?” he whispered finally.

“They wouldn’t kneel, according to witnesses, so he turned them into gold.”

“And… and Gav?” Geoff managed. “What did he do, what was he-”

“Conflicting accounts,” Jack said, grimly. “Some say he tried to stop Midas, that they fought. Others that he stood by and did nothing.”

“Gavin _wouldn’t_ ,” Michael spat, and Ryan felt himself nod in mute agreement.

Jack gave a helpless shrug. There was a deep pain in his face.

“One thing’s for certain,” he said grimly. “They’re still travelling together - and they’re almost at the Capital. Their army has slowed them down and we managed to overtake them; Ray and I will meet them on arrival. You need to come as quickly as possible.”

Geoff had already risen.

“Of course,” he said, and hesitated as he stepped towards Jack. “What are they saying?”

Jack’s lips pressed together tightly.

“People are terrified,” he said. ”The gold can’t make up for the killing and rumours. Many have no idea what’s going on. They want answers - and they want to know where we are.”

There was a long, tense pause. Ryan’s stomach was churning.

He’d expected this. To some extent, they all must have - Midas was dangerous, with a track record of taking things way too fucking far. They’d _discussed_ this possibility, extensively.

Yet it still made his gut sink to think about. The heralds would get wind of it - it’d be breaking news in all the kingdoms within the week. _Priests massacred in Pimberton. Turned to gold in front of entire city._

And the mob army - _Gavin -_ surely, by now, he must see how bad this was. Surely, after this, he’d _listen_ to them.

“How’s Ray?” Michael asked abruptly, and Jack shook himself.

“Shaken. We both are.” And then, a pitiful, quiet addition - “They don’t know what to do with the bodies.”

That was the worst part, somehow - the sheer _horror_ of those human forms, forever frozen in gold. He remembered Claudius’ screams.

_And somewhere, out there, is your mother too. Her spirit trapped forever, encased in riches like the tombs of old you used to read about._

Michael’s face hardened. He jumped up, too.

“We’re coming,” he declared. “The portal’s done. We’re coming.”

“Where are they now, Jack?” Geoff asked. 

“Outside the city with all their mobs. Should we wait for you, or…?”

“No,” Ryan said, and the force of his own voice startled him. “You cannot let them enter the city. Once they’re in, it’s over.”

He thought of his own capital - how quickly Midas had swept in and taken control. To Ryan’s benefit, true, but it hadn’t _looked_ good, and if the other man had been their enemy rather than their ally, it would’ve been over in an instant.

“At all costs,” he repeated, “Keep them out until we arrive.”

Jack nodded. Their eyes met for a long moment, and despite how exhausted and tired the other man looked, Ryan could see the steady pride underneath. _For_ you _\- for how you’ve stood up for this._

That reassured him - and when Jack vanished and Ryan rose to face the others, he felt _strong_ for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finished writing the entire story! Updates will now be on Thursdays and Sundays (Australian time) <3


	18. Chapter 18

Gavin felt so sick as they approached the Plains capital that he thought he might throw up. He and Midas hadn’t talked much since Pimberton, but it seemed the other man was regretting that now. He kept trying to approach Gavin, then chickening out when Gavin ignored him.

But now, as the great wall and spires of the castle rose up ahead of them, he seemed to gather his courage and walked up.

“Gavin,” he said.

Gavin finally glanced over at him. Midas looked remorseful, but Gavin knew he didn’t really regret what he’d done. He’d made that perfectly clear.

“Gavin,” Midas repeated. He didn’t attempt to touch him, which was a relief, just walked by his side and stared at him. For once his voice was quiet, almost gentle. “Do you still want this?”

Gavin froze.

The whole time they were travelling he’d been thinking about it. If he could turn back time, choose not to go gallivanting off like this - or a step further, choose not to release Midas at all - would he do it?

He bit his lip, staring at the city ahead of him. A sudden nostalgia struck him; he remembered coming here for the first time, a fresh-faced teen who’d only just left the circus, awestruck at the size of the Capital after a lifetime in the smaller country towns of the Plains.

Back then, he could never have dreamed he’d even _meet_ the king. Let alone befriend him, let alone…

Midas was watching him carefully.

“We’ve come so far,” he whispered. “You’ve fought so hard. Both of us have waited _so long_. Don’t give up right here at the end. Not when we’re this _close_.”

Gavin swallowed hard.

“When we get inside,” he said, slowly, “You follow my lead. I’ll do the talking. And you don’t turn anything, any _one_ , into gold. Not as a threat, not even if they turn on us. Understand?”

“Of course, Gavin,” Midas replied, cordially. “We come in peace, after all!”

Gavin gave him a suspicious look, but said nothing more.

The Capital was a bustling sprawl of a city. Even before you reached the front gates, the surrounding areas were crowded with market stalls, carts and caravans coming and going, troops returning from patrol.

They’d lost most of their army on the way here - the creatures too slow to keep up, left straggling across the land to join them later. But they had a few dozen left, and as they approached with the Kings at their head, the crowds parted with frightened gasps.

“King Gavin,” one man called out, and bowed when they turned towards him.

“They know you already,” Midas said, delighted.

“They don’t all _like_ me,” Gavin muttered.

Indeed, people were side-eying them suspiciously, some with open distaste. Gavin ignored them, keeping his head held high. He was more concerned with Midas - could sense the other man’s annoyance at the disrespect.

The troop of guards moved suddenly to stop them just before the gates. The soldiers all knew him, and eyed him warily, Gavin avoiding meeting the familiar eyes of men and women he hadn’t seen in over a year now. At their head was Captain Burns. He looked at Gavin, then Midas - then the trailing line of monsters behind them.

“Gav,” he said. “You’re back.”

“King Gavin to you,” Midas snapped, but Gavin raised a hand.

“I’ve known Burnie a long time. It’s fine.”

“It’s not a good example,” Midas insisted. Burnie glanced at the soldiers around him and actually looked a little sheepish.

“He’s right. Your majesty - you’ve returned. King Geoff told me what was going on.”

“Did he?” Gavin asked. His heart had jumped a little at the mention of the other man.

_What must they all be thinking by now?_ He’d felt them, now and then, over the last fortnight. Exhaustion, stress - funny shocks of adrenaline from Michael.

He’d pulled away in the bond, closing himself off. The physical distance had helped him keep all of the others from reaching out to him - from _feeling_ him. He wasn’t sure what he was so scared of - their judgment, or his own guilt, that they might make him want to stop and turn back.

And just like Midas had said. _We’ve come this far._

He could see the concern in Burnie’s eyes, and for a moment he longed for a time _before_ all this _-_ when he was friends with the soldiers, and could walk through the city with no one recognising him, and there wasn’t the distance that came with status.

_Yet now you seek to reinforce that distance?  
  
_ _I have to. It’s the only way to be together with the others._

_But your_ friends.

Behind Burnie, the gates opened, and Ray and Jack rushed out. Gavin jolted, stiffening, and beside him Midas let out a shocked noise.

He hadn’t expected the others to arrive this quickly.

It made sense. When they realised he was gone, of course they’d have wasted no time setting out after him. Yet somehow it still shocked him - how far they must’ve travelled, how fast, to get here first! It showed in their faces and clothes, worn from travel, and for a moment the sight of them - frowning in concern - made a lump rise in Gavin’s throat.

Part of him was relieved - that they’d take control of this, that he wouldn’t have to struggle any more, that someone else would make the decision _for_ him-

But under that, the desperation that’d brought him here in the first place still burned.

_You want this, you need this, it’s the only way-_

“How in the _world_ did you get here before us?” Midas exclaimed. He sounded almost delighted - like some part of him him hadn’t registered that most likely the others were here to _stop_ them. “It seems mathematically impossible!”

“We took a more direct route, and we weren’t slowed by an army,” Jack replied. His eyes were fixed on Midas, not looking at Gavin yet-

But Ray was, and Gavin’s heart sank. _Ray_ , who he’d kissed first aside from Ryan, who he’d spent so long in the Desert with - Ray who’d been so annoyed with him back in the Stoneworld. He still looked annoyed, now. Worse, _disappointed_.

“We went through Pimberton, though,” he said, and Gavin swallowed hard.

“What the hell is Pimberton?” Midas demanded.

“The town where you murdered six priests,” Jack continued, calmly. “Stand down, Midas. The Plains aren’t your domain - or Gavin’s. Even the alliance doesn’t allow you to bring a foreign army into our city. _Stand down.”_

Midas stared at him, then began to let out confused chuckles.

“Why, King Jack,” he declared. “You mistake us. We’re not here to attack, but _unite_. So far, every town we’ve passed through has pledged fealty to the alliance.”

“The army of monsters and the rising body count had nothing to fucking do with it, I’m sure,” Ray drawled.

“Dismiss the mobs,” Jack insisted, still very calm. “And walk away from the gates. We’ll discuss this, but not in here.”

Midas looked incredulous. He turned to Gavin.

“Gavin, talk some sense into him,” he said. “After what happened with Ryan, the last thing we need is another stand-off between kings!”

“Exactly,” Jack snapped. “We won’t argue with you. You’re not coming in.”

“That’s fucking that,” Ray chimed in.

“Jack,” Gavin said softly - _now_ the other man looked at him, and Gavin almost wished he hadn’t. He’d loved Jack for so long that it made the disappointment in his face even harder to bear. “Let’s not hash things out in public like this. Let’s go in and sit in the meeting room and talk about it in private. In _council_ if you want!”

“He is not coming in,” Jack repeated, firmly.

“He won’t hurt anyone. What happened in Pimberton was a mistake-”

“Oh, come the _fuck_ on,” Ray spat, and looking over at him Gavin suddenly realised what it must’ve been like for Michael during those eight tense months after they’d first been married. Ray was quiet most of the time, but he could be unbelievably, scathingly _sharp_ at times. Now was one of said times.  “You’re not fucking stupid, Gavin, we all know that. You _know_ how this will end. You can _see_ where it’s going. You’re just sticking your head in the sand because you’re _scared_.”

Gavin flinched. The words hit too close to home, and he thought suddenly of the piteous letter he’d written - half of it probably nonsensical as he tried desperately to spill the built up tides that’d driven him to this.

_I can see so clearly how we want to be, how we’re_ going _to be, but it feels like we’re wading through thick mud to get there. If Ryan had died I don’t think I could’ve stood it. They already hate me so I should be the one to push this. So far, Midas’ plans have all worked. I think we should take a chance on this one, too._

_Please. I can’t bear this. I can’t sleep._

_I’m sorry._

He lowered his head, staring at the ground - overwhelmed suddenly, quite sure if he tried to speak nothing but choked tears would emerge. He felt torn in two directions; even when he was taking the crown at least he’d been certain of his choice. Nothing so agonising as _this_.

But then - a gentle hand grasped his chin, tilting his head up. Ray stood close to him now, and his eyes were soft again - his anger mellowed.

“You don’t need to be scared,” he whispered. “Long or hard, we’ll do this _together_. The _right_ way.”

Gavin caught his breath. He turned to Jack to find him nodding earnestly - and before he could help it, he was flinging himself into the other man’s arms. The weeks apart had been horrible - lonely, filled with doubt and fear - and it was an overwhelming relief to feel Jack’s warm, strong arms around him, and the bond flare back to life after so long pushing it down.

People were staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It seemed the others couldn’t, either - Ray moved up to tuck himself under Jack’s other arm, running a hand down Gavin’s back as Jack leaned in to kiss the top of his head.

For a moment it felt like he was safe, like somehow, through some magic force - or perhaps fate - everything would turn out just fine.

“Hey!” Burnie yelled suddenly. “Stop right there! Your majesties, he’s-”

He broke off, and Gavin and Jack sprang apart. They turned just in time to see Midas charging off down the city’s main road. He’d taken the opportunity to slip through the gates while they were distracted, and it seemed the guards - unsure if he had royal authority, or perhaps afraid after the briefings they’d had about his powers - hadn’t stopped him. 

Gavin’s heart sank.

_Shit, shit, oh shit-_

Ray was right, he wasn’t stupid. This could only end badly and he’d known it all along - part of him had just refused to see.

“Fuck,” Jack hissed, exchanging a glance with Ray - in unison, they turned and ran after him, Burnie and the guards following.

Midas was sprinting for the castle. He glanced over his shoulder, saw them in pursuit, and stamped his foot. Gold spread along the road towards them - people yelled and sprang out of the way. It was moving slowly enough that no one got hurt, but the others were forced to skid to a halt, afraid that if they touched it, they’d transform too.

“This way!” Gavin called out. He knew the side streets and backroads of the city intimately. After all, he’d fled guards many times as a pickpocket. Now he led the way as they pelted down a narrow alley into another market road.

“The king! The king!” someone yelled, recognising Jack.

People scampered out of their path, scrambling to bow. Gavin paid them no attention, his exhaustion forgotten as he raced as fast as he could.

They broke out back onto the main road. The wall surrounding the rich district loomed ahead of them, and they skidded through the gates just in time to see Midas, ahead of them, drawing to a halt. Gavin stumbled to a standstill as well as he realised who else was up ahead.

Michael, Geoff and Ryan were running from the castle. Dan was with them - and a massive troop of the royal guard, armed with bows and pikes. As Gavin and the others drew up behind Midas, he turned and realised he was surrounded. He stopped running, drawing up to his full height.

Gavin braced himself as they joined the others, forming a ring around the Gold king. Despite travelling with the other man, despite _trusting_ him, he was so scared now that his hands were shaking, and he called on his gift, summoning his mobs to get here as quickly as they could. He could feel them shoving their way mindlessly through the city to get there, the confused crowds screaming and rushing out of their path-

But Midas just beamed around at all of them.

“Ah!” he cried. “We are all here! And we have an audience - excellent.”

Indeed, a crowd of curious nobles and heralds had gathered, apparently believing that if _all_ the kings were here then whatever was going on was probably more exciting than dangerous.

“Midas,” Geoff began warningly. He was braced and wary, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, completely fucking serious. Gavin had rarely seen him like this, and when he did it always impressed him - reminded him that the other man was a _king_ , and not to be messed with.

But Midas just stared around - at the soldiers, the crowds - smiling away. He seemed genuinely pleased about all this.

“Do you know why I am here?” he boomed, addressing the people rather than the kings.

“Midas,” Geoff began again - the other man wasn’t holding a weapon, but he _was_ the weapon - how could they restrain him?  
  
“We are here to show you all the new order!” Midas continued loudly, and swept his hands out, gesturing at the others surrounding him. “Seven kings, united! The tower has been reinstated in the Stoneworld - from now on all the kings reign equally! _All_ demand your respect. In return there will be peace, prosperity - no more war and division! We will rule fairly, creating a united land with new opportunities for all. But only if you pledge your allegiance,” he continued darkly. “Those who seek to undermine us will be eliminated.”

He stepped forward and the crowds reared back a bit, alarmed - the soldiers raised their weapons, but seemed uncertain. No one wanted to be the first to provoke him to attack.

Midas lifted his chin, staring at each individual face in the crowds.

“Kneel,” he ordered, his voice commanding as a general’s. “Kneel and show your fealty. Kneel to your King Geoff, and Jack. Kneel to Ryan with his hard-won crown. Kneel for Michael and Ray, who took the first steps to unite their kingdoms. Kneel to King Gavin who earned everything he has! Even if you don’t know me,” he continued, “Kneel for _them_. Show your loyalty.”

Gavin didn’t know what to think. At least he wasn’t demanding everyone worship him as a god - his words made sense, and Gavin could only freeze, waiting to see what would happen. After all, none of the rest of them could go against what he’d just said. For once Midas was actually _on_ script.

Burnie met Geoff’s eyes. Whatever he saw in them made him hesitantly nod. He lowered his sword and dropped to one knee. To Gavin’s surprise, it was him that Burnie turned to.

“My lord,” he said - he still seemed to feel guilty for not using his title outside. Gavin gave a weak smile.

At his lead, the men all knelt, too. Then the watching audiences, quickly bowing deep or dropping to their knees. Maybe it wasn’t for the Wild king specifically, Gavin thought - but to the others, at least. And wasn’t this what they wanted? For the briefest, glimmering moment, he thought maybe this was fine after all.

Midas spun in a slow circle, grinning. There was something almost surreal to how everyone was falling around them, leaving them standing above. But then he froze.

Dan was still standing.

He was with the other soldiers - all of whom knelt, too - a little distance from Michael’s side. His chin was lifted high, his eyes fixed on Gavin, who struggled to meet his gaze.

Guilt welled in Gavin’s chest. He’d lied to Dan earlier. That’d been one of his lowest moments so far, one that he deeply did regret. He loved the others, but Dan was the one who’d stuck by his side - who he’d spent so long with - just the two of them in the Wild. Achievement City was as much Dan’s kingdom as it was his. Gavin might have the gift, but Dan had done a lot of the heavy lifting while he was figuring out how to get the mobs to do everything he wanted. He’d been there to help plan every step of the way. Gavin loved him as fiercely as he’d love a brother related to him by blood. He’d never forget that after he took the crown Dan had been the first to kneel. As far as he was concerned, that counted for everything; he didn’t have to ever again.

But Midas - Midas didn’t realise that, and a tremendous anger clouded his face as he stepped towards Dan.

“You are not kneeling,” he said slowly.

“Midas,” Michael began, panic in his voice. He drew his sword, but Dan’s eyes just flicked dismissively to Midas.

“The people of the Wild kneel to no one,” he said.

“Everyone should kneel before a god,” Midas said, and oh, fucking hell, here they went again-

“Gavin,” Dan said, eyes trained on Midas but clearly addressing him. “This isn’t you. I know it’s not. Since you became king you’ve made it perfectly bloody clear - a crown doesn’t prove your worth. Your actions do. A crown doesn’t make you a _god_ ,” he said, and barked out a laugh - Midas bristled - “After all, who else has worn the Wild crown? Vagabonds, thieves, criminals. _Murderers._ Were they all gods, too? You don’t want this, B - I know you don’t.”

Gavin knew it, too. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath.

But Midas didn’t know - and his fury burst out the way Gavin was starting to realise it always did; uncontrollable, like even he couldn’t stop himself.

“You speak of _earning_ ,” he exploded - “We have all _suffered_ for this! Thousands of years in the End, cast aside because I wasn’t deemed _worthy_ due to the circumstances of my birth! If you respect your friend so much, you will show him the veneration that he deserves! The world is to bow at our feet. _No exceptions_.”

Burnie had half-risen now, and Michael’s sword was raised - but Dan promptly stared Midas in the eyes, licked his middle finger, and stuck it up to the other man.

Midas let out a furious roar, and Gavin’s heart nearly stopped. The Gold king _lunged_ at Dan, hand outstretched, and Gavin acted on blind instinct.

In a second, an explosion in the _air_ right beside Midas threw him sideways across the road, people scuttling out of the way. He landed heavily on the pavement with a grunt, leaving a thin streak of bloodstained gold along the cobblestones where he’d rolled. 

It had come out of nowhere, and Gavin stood, chest heaving - his eyes burned, and he knew they must be glowing like witch lights - the magic had come instinctively, something he’d never really done before. An Enderman had teleported in, an exploding creeper in its arms. Now the Enderman was left, staggering in the street. Part of its body was blown away, one arm completely gone, bleeding a sluggish black liquid. It stumbled, then fell to the ground dead - large enough to make the entire road shake. The ground was cracked and damaged where the explosion had happened.

Everyone else had stumbled backwards. Their ears must be ringing - Gavin’s certainly were - trembling in the aftermath, mouths open in shock. Dan looked stunned - his arms were flung up to protect himself, but he was still standing.

And Midas - Midas groaned as he rolled over and slowly sat up, picking himself up from the road. He looked shocked - scraped and dusty, bleeding from several wounds on his head and arms where he’d skidded across the road. For a moment he didn’t seem to know what had happened. Then looked around, and his wide golden eyes met Gavin’s.

Betrayal crossed his face - then a deep hurt. Despite himself, Gavin felt guilty - but he lowered his hands and swallowed, hard. The dust that had risen from the road tickled his throat and made his eyes feel sore and dry. He could feel tears running down his cheeks, could taste their salt on his lips as he cleared his throat.

“You don’t touch him,” he choked out - Midas opened his mouth to speak, but Gavin stepped towards him, fists clenched. “He doesn’t have to kneel. None of them do.”

He turned to look around at the others, staring at him with wide eyes. The people looked afraid - of him? - suddenly, it all became overwhelming. 

_This can’t work._

_It was never going to._

_You were a fool to think this was the way._

The others didn’t look angry, but the _pity_ in their eyes was even worse. He remembered what Michael had said, before - _you’ll be the one who gets the most hurt -_ he couldn’t stand it suddenly. The shame, their sympathy, everyone _looking_ at him, like an animal in the zoo, waiting to see what he’d do next.

Calling on his gift again, he summoned two more Endermen. They appeared beside Midas and seized him by the arms; before he could react they’d vanished again. They’d deposit him some distance outside the city.

_And then what do we do with him?_ He had no idea, all he could see was that this was another obstacle, another wall in their path, another twist in the road.

“Gavin,” Ryan began, softly.

He stepped towards him, but Gavin stepped back. His throat was thick with tears, now, and he couldn’t speak, couldn’t _stand_ this.

Suddenly, he just needed to get away. To gather himself. To not have everyone _watching_ him for a moment.

He fumbled in his pocket and his fingers closed around the smooth surface of an enderpearl. He didn’t have many left - but before the others could approach him he drew it out, and hurled it over the wall, and vanished before their startled eyes.

 

* * *

 

Geoff didn’t know what to think. Everything had just happened so _fast_.

One moment crisis, then Midas was gone. One moment _Gavin_ , reunited with them after those lonely weeks without him - vanished, too! The explosion had come out of fucking nowhere - he felt like someone had run up, punched him in the face and then fucked off again without so much as a word.

He turned and met Jack’s eyes. They were as wide and stunned as his own. Geoff shook himself and moved to Dan’s side.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” Dan replied, but looked rather shellshocked. 

“Fuck, Dan, when he reached for you I thought for sure you were a goner.”

“My life may have flashed before my eyes. It involved a regrettably low amount of sex.”

Geoff guffawed, mostly because he was borderline hysterical with relief. He clapped Dan on the shoulder - unbelievably glad to feel warm flesh rather than metal - and smiled at him.

“If one good thing’s come out of this fuckfest,” he declared, “It’s that Gavin’s back on side. After what just happened there’s no way he can keep defending Midas! And with all of us in agreement on what to do, it’ll be a hell of a lot easier to deal with this mess.”

“What _are_ we gonna do?” Ray asked quietly, and Geoff looked around at them all.

Michael was still poised to fight, teeth bared and chest heaving, even though Midas was nowhere in sight. Beside him, Ryan stared wistfully in the direction Gavin had vanished.

Damaged as they were, at least they were all _here_. Perhaps not physically, but Gavin had opened his strand of the bond to them again, and Geoff could feel him. Raw, aching - he needed time to heal, but Geoff had no doubt he’d come back. The fact that he was letting them in again was a damn good start.

“We’re kings,” he announced, and looked about at them all. “We deal with this like honourable men. Midas will respect that. I know it. No betrayals, no sneaking off, no surprise attacks. Just like the games - fairly. Each man for himself.”

They began to nod, Michael with especial vigour, even if perhaps they didn’t quite know what he was getting at yet. Geoff turned to the still-kneeling masses and flapped his hands, furiously. 

“Oh, for gods’ sake please get up. I’ve never needed you all to kneel in the middle of the fucking road before, and I’m sure as hell not gonna start now. We’re holding up traffic!”

Relieved grins broke out across their faces, and Geoff felt a sudden unbearable fondness for them all. His court had taken his return from the dead remarkably in stride. He resolved to explain this all, in detail, soon. Maybe write a script and have it all performed. Get a bit of a laugh out of it.

_Later_. He shook those plans off and turned to the others. _Deal with this first._

“Come on. It’s about time we all held court together. I don’t know where Gavin’s mobs put Midas, but I doubt he’ll sit still for long - not to mention all his Wither are still around. No more fucking about - let’s finish this.”

 

* * *

 

Night was beginning to fall as Geoff and Ryan headed out into the fields surrounding the Capital. A troop of soldiers and golems rode with them, and their hoofs against the soft grass was the only sound this far out. The city was noisy at night, but it was some distance behind them.

It still struck Geoff, now and then, how glad he was to be back in the living world. To feel the cool night breeze, see the stars above them, feel his veins pulse with _life_. He’d never appreciated it more than he did now, after the Nether.

Now, though - he’d been taken over by a sudden, steady calm, nearly unnatural. He hadn’t even been drinking. It felt like the final pages of a long book, like the moments before slipping into sleep - like nearly reaching home after weeks of travel. Something peaceful to the inevitability, no matter what lay ahead.

“If he attacks us,” Ryan spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence. “If he’s angry-”

“He won’t be,” Geoff said, and took a deep breath. “He won’t. We’re giving him exactly what he wants - treating him as our equal in status and power.”

“If you say so,” Ryan said, and Geoff drew his horse closer, reaching out to catch the other man’s hand. Ryan glanced at him, and Geoff smiled. It startled him sometimes, how much he’d come to care for the other man. He could see, in Ryan’s eyes, all the cracks and chipped edges Tamora had left him. After spending six months in hell with her Geoff understood that, in a way he hadn’t before. But he was glad, now, to have the other man by his side, and no matter how much they’d disagreed previously, it was Ryan he’d wanted here with him for this meeting. Not Michael or Ray, not even Jack.

“I say so,” he replied, and Ryan rolled his eyes and smiled.

They rode on. Ahead of them, a distant field was lit up by torches, and Geoff swallowed as they approached. A large travel tent was set up, and platoons of Wither were guarding it - dark shadows in the night as they paced back and forth in the flickering torchlight. Two golden statues loomed in front of the tent, glimmering in the darkness, and they had to pass under them as they entered. Endermen - the ones Gavin had sent with Midas. Their towering forms made formidable statues.

The sight of the Wither made Geoff twitch. He’d gotten edgy at the sight of them in Ryan’s city - the memory of the pain of his infection, those awful fevered nights, still haunted him.

But he pushed that aside, and soon fell back into his previous calm.

“Midas!” he called out, dismounting and walking confidently towards the tent entrance. “We wish to speak with you!” 

As he’d expected - well, to be honest, _hoped_ \- the Wither didn’t stop them. He turned and gestured for the army to wait, and stepped into the tent just with Ryan. A flash of deja vu hit him as they pushed the entrance flap aside and ducked in, remembering the last time they’d had a meeting like this - but no, this tent was green, not that hellish red, and Midas was the only one in it. He was sitting hunched over a little campfire, swigging from a bottle of alcohol. When they entered, he looked up and frowned.

“Is Gavin with you?” he called out. His voice was thick and dull.

“No,” Geoff replied carefully, edging around the other end of the fire. 

“I’ve upset him,” Midas said, sadly.

“He isn’t here,” Geoff repeated, “Just Ryan and I. We want to talk - peacefully. Man to man. King to king.”

As he’d expected, that made Midas’ face brighten. He began to get up, but Geoff raised a hand to stop him. Instead, he and Ryan sat on the opposite side of the fire, carefully out of reach. Geoff knew Ryan had a redstone torch in his belt, and they both carried Enderpearls. That was enough to blind Midas and escape with if need be.

“I was furious earlier,” Midas spoke up, sounding tired. He was gazing into the fire now. “You might have noticed parts of the fields around us have been turned to gold.”

“Yes.”

“I hope the farmers consider it enough repayment for the lost crops. They are technically richer now than ever before.”

“They can keep it. It’s their land,” Geoff said, and leaned forward. “Midas, we have some bad news.”

Midas glanced up to meet his eyes, frowning.

“We met with our councils,” Geoff continued, and the mention of the meeting made him smile a bit. That had been good - standing up there with the others, united, talk flowing freely, the debate civil and democratic - a glimpse at how things could be. The only one missing was Gavin, but that was probably for the best; he wasn’t in the best state and Geoff knew he’d only have felt anxious having to stand up there in front of the court.

“About me,” Midas replied.

“About you and Gavin,” Geoff said, “But yeah, mostly you. It’s an unfortunate situation, Midas. You know by now that we don’t agree with your methods - or your creed. We don’t see ourselves as gods and we aren’t going to continue down the path you’ve started here.”

“Then what?” Midas asked. He was remarkably calm - probably because Geoff still was.

“We didn’t want to make an enemy of you,” Ryan added, “But the councils of all our kingdoms - save the Wild - are in agreement on one thing. What you did… travelling through the kingdoms, forcing pledges of loyalty, and now the murder of at least six innocent people - was an act of war.”

“The death of the priests is what did it,” Geoff said. “And you brought a foreign army through the lands and used it to threaten people. Gavin and his mobs at least are under the pledge of allegiance they signed. They have permission to cross the borders. But you aren’t from any of the current kingdoms, not as they are after the tower divided the land. So it’s considered an invasion. Even if you were alongside Gavin.”

Midas considered this for a long moment. The other two watched him carefully for any signs of an impending breakdown. But finally, Midas sighed.

“Then what are we to do?” he asked. “You seek to banish me back to the End?”

His shoulders rose, tense, at the thought - but Geoff shook his head.

“We are offering for you to return to the End of your own will,” he said, “And from there you’re free to roam through the interim worlds like the Nether. Or there’s one other way.”

“And what is that?”

“A duel,” Geoff announced, and Midas sat up a little, eyes widening. “Yourself against the alliance. It’s an old tradition here - though one that hasn’t been put into practice for a while - that to avoid needless death through a full-scale war, a king or queen might choose to meet their opponent one-on-one. In this case, it’d be one-on-six. If those odds are too unfair you might choose the other option and return peacefully to the End.”

Midas was silent for a long moment. He looked between the two of them, staring earnestly back at him.

There had been arguments over this.

Michael was in full agreement with Geoff’s plan. Ray less so. Jack had been hesitant to risk any of their lives.

But honestly, the Nether and the Overlord’s death made it far more worthwhile. They knew death was not so great a risk as it had been before, and Midas was powerful, but not so powerful that they couldn’t defeat him in fair combat. It was better than sending all their men against him to die. In one respect, Midas was right - they were _more_ , they had the gifts - they had a better chance of defeating him.

“What other terms?” Midas asked, finally.

“The loser’s army must be sacrificed after their death. Your wither, Gavin’s mobs and Ryan’s golems.”

He wasn’t sure if Midas knew the mobs could respawn, but either way the other man nodded.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “I see. And these are the only options? You truly believe there is no hope for reconciliation between us?”

“Unfortunately not,” Geoff said. “Even if we’d personally wished it, you killed innocent civilians. _People_ , citizens of my kingdom - I can’t let that slide, not as their leader. Neither can Jack. But I believe you will behave with honour in this, I _trust_ that - you are, after all, a king, and as noble as the rest of us.”

Midas beamed. That seemed to get through to him.

“Yes - yes, I am,” he agreed. “But oh, Geoff,” and he leaned forward, reaching over the fire to clasp Geoff’s hand; Geoff swiftly avoided it and instead pulled out his own liquor flask and struck it against Midas’ in a toast. Midas smiled a bit, but looked quite sad.

“I regret we can’t all live through this,” he said. “We were to be such allies! To fight you, Ryan, _Gavin_ -”

“If you prove yourself, you’re free to be worshipped by the people,” Geoff said smoothly. “The miners in the Stoneworld - they liked you. You will have no lack of friends here.”

Midas nodded again.

“So be it, then,” he said, but still looked rather glum. Geoff couldn’t help but feel rather sorry for him. Midas wasn’t like Claudius; he didn’t have that same streak of ruthless self interest, nor was he cruel for cruelty’s sake. But his worldview was irreparably warped, and had been for literally thousands of years. Something like that was difficult to undo.

“The logistics, then,” Ryan spoke up. “If you defeat us, we’ll hand over our crowns. You’ll have all the gifts, and the right to rule every kingdom.”

Midas’ eyes went huge, and Geoff struggled to keep a straight face. Of course they wouldn’t just hand him so much power - the crowns were replicas, and their successors had orders to continue fighting Midas until he was defeated. But it seemed Midas - even paranoid as he was - was naive enough to trust _them_.

“And your people will accept this?” he demanded.

“We’ve laid out fair terms. As I said - it’s tradition.”

"So be it, then.” He looked shocked, but shook himself. “And where will this duel - if it can be called that with so many participants! - take place?”

“Ah,” Geoff said, and took a map from his pouch, laying it out flat. “Three hours from the Capital, deep in the Plains, are ruins - they’ve been there as long as anyone can remember. I assume they may even be from your time. There are legends surrounding them, but even our best archaeologists have no idea what they came from or what they were used for.”

“What sort of ruins?”

“Seven pillars, placed in an evenly spaced circle. As tall as the castle’s towers, with ladders leading up each. We call it the Witches’ Circle because they’re the main ones to come there, when there’s a blood moon, to perform dark rituals.”

“Seven,” Midas murmured. “It seems fateful, doesn’t it?”

Ah yes. He was a great fan of fate.

Ryan nodded.

“We will meet here, each atop one column. No armies. Your Wither stay here; my golems too.”

“When?”

“Just past dawn.”

Midas nodded again. He seemed quite excited now - it all felt like they were playing out some epic legend, something the bards would sing about for years afterward.

“Alright. A fair fight, then. I’ll see you there. Geoff… Ryan,” he added, looking between them, “I do regret things came to this. I really thought it would be the seven of us. Perhaps not.”

“We will prove ourselves as the sun rises,” Geoff said, and Midas nodded. They all rose, and there was an awkward pause - how were you meant to say goodbye to someone you were about to fight to the death? - finally, Geoff turned and left, Ryan beside him.

Outside the tent, they both paused, taking a moment to process all this.

“Well then,” Geoff said.

“Well then.”

“We’re all really fucking going ahead with this.”

“It was _your_ idea,” Ryan pointed out, and Geoff sighed and rubbed his face.

“Yeah, seemed like a fucking fantastic one at the time. I’ve put _all_ our lives on the line here, gods.”

“And saved our men’s,” Ryan pointed out. He reached out and touched Geoff’s arm. “This is our mess. Our fight. Not theirs. It will prove our unity - be the symbol Gavin wanted. We have a plan,” he continued firmly, “He can’t kill all of us.”

“If he turns us to gold, we’ll have no body to come back to-”

“We’ll figure it out. We always do. Don’t lose faith now, Geoff.”

He squeezed Geoff’s arm, and Geoff nodded. He took a deep, shaky breath, and when he looked up at Ryan, the other man was smiling. Geoff managed to smile back. Ryan was scared too, he must be - but he wasn’t showing it now, not out of some pride, some need to appear in control. No - it was out of love, to _reassure_ Geoff.

“Gods, I love you,” he heard himself blurt out, before he could stop the words. “I love you _all_.”

Ryan froze - and their connection had been sudden, more sudden than most of the rest - but after a moment his face softened.

“Likewise,” he said, and Geoff shrieked with hysterical laughter.

“Likewise? I tell you I love you and you say _likewise?”_

“Hey,” Ryan replied indignantly, “It could be worse. I could’ve said _ditto_. But I’m not Ray.”

Geoff snorted, shaking his head. He jostled Ryan and leaned in to kiss the other man’s shoulder before they began making their way back to the soldiers. From there, the city. Dawn. Battle.

_Victory - hopefully_.

 

* * *

 

It was nearly midnight by the time they returned to the castle. The others waited for them in the drawing room - huddled around a table strewn with maps and cups of strong tea.

“He agreed?” Jack asked as they entered.

Geoff nodded, shucking his cloak off and tossing it onto a nearby couch as he moved to join them. He scanned the room, and frowned.

“Gav isn’t back yet?” he asked, and saw Ryan stiffen as he sat down, too.

Jack shook his head.

“No,” he replied, worriedly. “Not a trace of him. Dan’s going around to all his old haunts looking for him. I’m not sure he’s even still in the city.”

“The fuck is he doing?” Michael snapped, but it was worry in his voice, not anger. “He just - just _ran off_ and now he’s staying away?”

“He’s licking his wounds,” Ryan murmured. “He’s been burned, badly. He put all his trust in Midas, and it didn’t pay off. Now he’s hurt. Scared. Give him time.”

“He has about six hours,” Ray muttered.

Geoff straightened up.

“Then we have a decision to make,” he declared. He reached for Jack’s hand - the other man took it, puzzled - then Ray’s, on his other side. It didn’t take them long to catch on; soon enough they all stood, clasping hands in an awkward ring around the table. Geoff led the way, reaching out with his magic, drawing the others along with him - tracing Gavin’s thread like they could use it to reel him in. 

It didn’t take long to find him; he was close by the city, then, though they couldn’t tell where. A simmering ball of anger, hurt, upset - he wasn’t shutting them out, but he didn’t respond, either, to the waves of affection and concern the rest of them tried to send over the bond.

_Anticipation_ , Geoff tried to project, sending forth all his feelings about the battle tomorrow morning. He felt something in Gavin stir curiously at that, but a moment later he blocked them out again, and Geoff opened his eyes, looking around at the others.  
  
“He’s too upset,” he said, “And I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to face Midas tomorrow. I vote we leave him as he is. We don’t seek him out and try and drag him along.”

Jack nodded agreement.

“He might be angry,” Ryan pointed out quietly. “If we all go to fight and leave him behind. I know he wouldn’t want us to fight without him.”

“We can’t tell what he wants right now, Ryan-”

“If we _do_ all die out there,” Ryan continued, “He’ll be the only one left, Geoff. What do you think that will do to him?”

Geoff swallowed. For a moment, the thought was horrible - Gavin, abandoned once more, alone here without them, forced to battle Midas alone, to succeed where they had failed - but he shook it off.

“If that happens,” he said, “He will find a way to save us from the Nether. I know he will. He’s resourceful, smart… if anyone can do it, it’s him.”

There was a grim silence, but Michael nodded, then Ray. 

“It’s safer without him,” Ray said, and moved his own injured arm with a grimace. “Not sure how much use _I’m_ gonna be out there, but just for the record, I’m sure as fuck not staying behind this time.”

“We’ll need your magic,” Geoff assured him, and took a deep breath, shaking off his worry about Gavin to focus on the task at hand. He leaned forward, looking over the maps. “Okay. What’ve you guys come up with while we were out?”

They all snapped back to attention. Michael rose, gesturing at the maps.

“Jack’s idea about using the pillars? Fucking genius,” he declared. “It’s probably the best way we have of avoiding him just immediately turning us all into gold.”

“Yes, please, let’s avoid that,” Geoff muttered.

Michael pointed to a diagram someone had drawn - circles for each pillar, each labelled with a name.

“Being separated like this, and so high off the ground, means that a ranged attack is gonna be the key way we can attack him, at least at first. Otherwise we’ll all be spending fifteen minutes climbing down the ladders like idiots.”

“Knowing Midas’ strategy so far,” Jack added, “He’ll try and turn his whole pillar into gold then spread it along the ground to ours. We need to disrupt his gift before he gets that far.”

Geoff nodded. It made sense - he knew his own gift was interrupted if something hit or attacked him.

“In case he’s faster than we think,” Michael said, “Jack will be on the pillar next to him - the closest, the one he’ll go for first. Except it won’t be Jack - he’ll project himself in the Sight. The spacing of the pillars and the dawn light should make it impossible for Midas to tell. He’ll just see Jack standing up there and assume it’s his real body.”

“Cunning,” Geoff said. “I approve.”

“We’ll arrive first,” Michael continued, “We have guards set up near Midas’ camp to warn us if he starts moving earlier than we do. We need to ensure Midas takes this particular column-” he stabbed a finger at it on the diagram - “Since we’ll be standing on all the others. Gavin not being here actually fucks us a little bit, because it means there’s now two columns Midas could pick, but we want it to be this one. Next to Ryan’s. The pillars are stone; he’s gonna make a redstone core with a circuit that leads up into his own column.”

He gestured at another poorly drawn diagram showing the redstone linking the two towers, tunnelling right up the middles nearly to the top.

Ryan nodded approvingly.

“When Midas is up there,” he said, “I can superheat the redstone when the battle starts. The stone’s so old that the whole thing should just explode - yes, it should work.”

“Midas will fall,” Michael declared. “And while he’s stunned, me and Geoff will shoot him with bows from up top.”

“Make sure you hit the target this time,” Ryan said, looking at Geoff. “Your performance in the games doesn’t give me much confidence.”

Once it would’ve been snide; now he just sounded teasing.

“That was like two fucking years ago,” Geoff replied, but he was glad they could laugh about it, and to see Ryan’s small smile.

“We need to get Midas on the ground,” Michael said, “And we need Ray on ground level too. He’ll have an Enderpearl on him to teleport down quickly.”

“Then I’ll use my gift to create plants to restrain him,” Ray said. “Even if he turns them to gold, it’ll just mean he’s trapped by metal instead of plants.”

“I’ll have a bow where I’m hiding in the ruins,” Jack said. “I’ll shoot him from below. Between us we can kill him with arrows. Hopefully.”

“We’ll all have enderpearls,” Ray added, “In case Midas starts turning our towers into gold, we can make a quick escape.”

There was a pause as they took this in.

“In theory it sounds fantastic,” Geoff declared. “Things rarely go so smoothly in practice.”

“We’ll think on our feet,” Michael assured him. The sight of him standing there with his hands on his hips, the sheer confidence in his voice, made Geoff feel a surge of reassurance. If anyone could plan a successful battle, it was the Alpine king. “If Ryan’s redstone fails we’ll just all shoot Midas with arrows until he falls.”

There was a long silence as they all took in the plan. Geoff played it out in his head, over and over again. _It’ll work,_ he told himself. _It’ll work_.

He looked around at all the others, gazing seriously down at the maps, and felt a surge of affection for them.

“I’m so proud of us,” he declared, and they looked up. There was an echo of laughter, but it faltered away when Geoff raised a hand.

“I mean it,” he insisted. “A year ago we were at each other’s fucking throats. Now look at us! I’m scared,” he admitted, “But I believe in all of you. If anyone can take down this bastard it’s us. Then we’ll find Gavin, sign new alliances, and finish the portals off. Dawn of a new fucking era.”

They nodded - Jack glanced at each of them too. He smiled.

“I love you,” he said. “All of you. Once we have time - time to _sleep_ , to continue getting closer, time to let our guards down for more than a minute… once our kingdoms  are sorted out… let’s all go somewhere. All six of us, together - not for a mission, not to plan or to fight a war. Just to relax for a bit, to be together.”

“People generally call that a holiday,” Ryan supplied, and Jack laughed.

“Yes, I suppose. It’s hard when we’re all in charge, but… I think we all need a break.”

“We’ll work it out,” Geoff assured him. “For now… we have to leave soon to get there before Midas. Go prepare. I’ll see you all before we leave.”

He watched them file out of the room, and something welled in his chest, something so forceful it made tears spring to his eyes. These were the men who’d brought him back from the dead - oh, he adored them all. He wished Gavin was here, but he was also glad the other man would be safe, at least for now. 

 

* * *

 

Geoff stood, staring at his bed. It felt like it had been far, far too long since he was here - in his own home, on his own mattress. With Jack beside him, Gavin, too.

Sometimes this all felt like a long, bad dream. Like he’d wake up and it’d be two years ago, and he’d live normally with Jack and Gav, and wouldn’t know the others properly yet. No games, no betrayal, no death.

_No relationship. No others. It’s not all bad._

“Geoff?”

He turned. Jack was at the door, armoured and ready to go. He came up to Geoff’s side and touched his back, gently.

“It’s three. Time to go.”

“Three in the morning,” Geoff mused. “Isn’t that the hour considered the very ‘dead of night’?”

“It’s when the witches are meant to come out,” Jack said. And then, with a wry smile, “Still no sign of Gav.”

Geoff sighed and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“When we find him,” he muttered, “I’m gonna give that kid such a big fucking hug.”

Jack laughed.

“I thought that was going somewhere else.”

“I mean it. No more standing by and letting the court shit on him. Or Ryan, or _any_ of us. This battle will show them. I miss both of you - I miss the three of us and how _good_ we were together. We haven’t had the chance just to be _us_ \- not since that night Gav ran off to the End.”

Jack just nodded, and Geoff reached out and cupped his cheek. He leaned in and their lips met in a kiss - slow, soft - Geoff clung to him tightly, reassured by Jack’s own firm grip on his shoulders.

They broke apart, and Geoff stared steadily into his eyes for a long moment.

“I love you so fucking much,” he said. “It kept me going in the Nether. If it’d been you who died I don’t know what I would’ve done. Don’t think I could have kept going like you did.”

“You would have,” Jack said. “You’re strong. Now come on - the others are waiting.”

They emerged into the corridor. Down the hall, Ryan was just stepping out of his own room. He gave a close-lipped smile when he glanced over at them, still seeming a bit shy to be around the longest established pair. But Jack made a beeline for him, taking Ryan’s hands and pulling him over to join them.

“Whatever happens out there,” he said, “Whatever happened before in the Stoneworld… we’re so proud of you, you know that? And how far you’ve come. Not just with your kingdom, but with us.”

Ryan nodded. He looked a bit embarrassed.

“I mean it,” Jack insisted. “We couldn’t have gotten Geoff back without you. Hell, we wouldn’t have even known it was possible.”

“Thank you,” Geoff agreed.

Ryan gave a bashful little shrug.

“I was going to say I know you’d do the same for me, but-”

“I would’ve,” Jack said. “Back then, if I’d known there was a way - I would’ve. Gavin too, probably.”

Ryan smiled a bit. Jack squeezed his hands, and leaned up to kiss him. There was still something surprised in Ryan’s face when they pulled apart, and Geoff suddenly, desperately wanted all this - to get closer to him, to be as comfortable with him as he’d seen Gavin get. For their affection to be routine.

_Just another reason to keep fighting hard for this_.

He moved up to kiss Ryan next, wanting his turn - leaned up, hand clasped firm on the back of Ryan’s head, pulling him as close as possible. The bond between them was intense, surging, just like the steady blaze of Ryan’s redstone. When the broke apart Ryan grinned at him. It was nice, how much he smiled these days - how real those smiles were - and Geoff smiled back and clapped him on the shoulders.

“Let’s go,” he said.

They headed for the stairs. At the top, Geoff looked down over the banister and couldn’t help but grin. Ray and Michael were down below - heads bent low together, talking, Michael’s hand on Ray’s arm. They’d made up then, he thought - and saw Ray lean in and kiss the other man. Good. He was glad to see them close - hadn’t liked the split between all of them, before.

He knew that before they left for the Pillars, he’d speak to both of them - quietly, intently, letting them know how much he cared and how much he _believed_ in them. He knew he’d speak to Lindsay, too, and Burnie - tell them what to do if things went horribly wrong. Thank them for holding things together so well in all the kings’ frequent absences. They’d both done more than he could ever have expected them too.

And he wished again with a sudden ache that Gavin was here. If things did go wrong, he would want to be able to say goodbye.

But there was nothing to be done about that. He took a deep breath, and headed down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

Gavin sat huddled under a tree.

He’d run, after teleporting out of the city. Run like his life depended on it - run like he was nothing but a thief again. Run like he had nowhere to go.

His feet had taken him here - to the edge of a forest on some farmer’s land. Now he pressed himself into a hollow under an enormous tree trunk, knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around them.

Everything hurt.

Not physically, though he was shaking uncontrollably. It was cold here in the dead of night, and dark. He hadn’t bothered to bring a light.

No, the ache came from deep inside. Betrayal. Shame. _Fear_.

He’d believed Midas, and he’d turned on them-

_Dan-_

_He nearly killed Dan, oh,_ gods-

Dan, his closest friend, his brother - for a horrible instant Gavin had thought he would be gone forever, and it kept playing over and over in his head. If he’d been a second slower… Dan’s face, superimposed over the priests he’d seen die. Screaming. Golden. The pain _that_ loss would have brought him.

_Stupid!_ Stupid, stupid, stupid - this was all his fault. Hadn’t the others warned him? Hadn’t _every_ shred of sense he had been screaming at him that this was a bad idea, that he shouldn’t do it? And he’d thought he knew better - oh, fool!

Gods knew where Midas was now. Gavin had felt the others reaching out to him, again and again since he left. He’d let them, but hadn’t reached back. But they’d felt different an hour ago, when they’d all come - something determined and steady to the emotions they were transmitting along the bond.

He knew what that meant. They had a plan.

He had no idea what it was, but it probably had something to do with finishing Midas off. Maybe they’d succeed - or maybe they’d all die, and that would be his fault, too. He felt numb, unsure where he fit into things, either now or in some uncertain future.

If only he could sit here forever - sink into the earth and become part of it. It would all be so simple if he could just fade away like he’d never been here in the first place to fuck everything up.

A sound in the dark made his head snap up suddenly - a familiar warping noise. He pressed back against the tree, heart slamming. In the dark, bright purple eyes appeared in front of him - and another set, and another-

_Endermen._

He wasn’t controlling them.

He’d let all his mobs roam freely after he left, with only one command - not to attack anybody. But now the creatures walked towards him, the eyes floating closer and closer. _They’ve come for you_. Sheer animal panic overtook him, but he had nowhere to run, not now. _It’s like all your nightmares._

Hadn’t he dreamt this would happen? His gift no longer working, his own monsters turning on him - the dreadful realisation that he wasn’t a king after all, that he had no control, no powers. Just like with Midas, it was coming true in reality.

He reached out frantically with his magic - to find he could still sense all his creepers and draugr, could still control a zombie he could feel nearby.

_The hell?_

So his gift was still there - then why had the Endermen come?

_They’re not like the others._

He knew that. He knew what they were capable of, and he felt quite certain suddenly that they would kill him. That they knew he was _unworthy_ , that he had darkness in his heart, a stain on his soul, a conscience too heavy to bear. They would kill him, or banish him like they had with Midas, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

The creatures stopped, right in front of him. They were so huge that he had to crane his neck back to look up at them, and in the dark all he could see were vague black forms with blazing eyes.

There were three of them. A hand reached out - and Gavin flinched back, squeezing his eyes shut-

No blow came.

After a long, silent moment he dared to open his eyes. His chest felt tight, and he could barely breathe. The Endermen were just… standing there, one of them holding a hand out. Not striking him. Not killing him.

Did they want to take him somewhere?

Hesitantly, he reached out and grasped it, its enormous paw dwarfing his own hand. He braced himself to be teleported - but the Enderman just pulled him to his feet, as easily as a child, and tugged him forward. Gavin stumbled along with it, unsure.

The other two Endermen moved in around him until he was jostled between three giant forms, their bodies pressing in around him. Big hands descended on him, one resting gently atop his head, the others on his shoulders, back, arms-

“What’s going on?” he asked.

They didn’t answer. But suddenly, he felt them nudging his _mind_ \- nudging him the way he reached into their own to see through their eyes. He let himself fall away, let them take him into their memories, just as he had when finding out what happened to Midas all those years ago.

It was as easy as falling asleep.

In an instant, he was transported - in an instant, he found himself in the Wild, and knew, innately, that it was years ago.

_Twenty-six years ago._ That knowledge was embedded in the memories he was now reliving. He saw through the eyes of one of the creatures - it stood on the edge of the border between the Wild and Stoneworld, keeping watch. He felt a deep unease, knew something big was going on.

Another king had command of him. Someone whose magic felt sharp and strong - who currently had at tight grip on all the mobs, was using them to fight. He could smell smoke rising somewhere in the trees beyond, could hear the clash of some battle going on, and feel, pulsing in the woods, a deep anger and hatred.

_Bad people_. People the Endermen wanted to kill. But they had orders to stay here, and they’d obey them as long as the king wore his crown. 

Suddenly, footsteps came pattering through the woods. The Endermen twitched alert - someone was coming, someone who it had orders to protect-

She burst out of the trees, her cape tattered where it’d snagged on stray branches, dark hair flying wildly behind her, panic in her face as she rushed up to him. Something was clutched in her arms, a creeperskin bundle, and Gavin knew with a sudden fierce ache-

_Maria._

_Mother._

She had the same blazing green eyes that he did - brighter, even, from a lifetime spent in the Wild’s magic. He could feel it in her.

She was beautiful. Something proud to her bearing, something fierce and strong. But she looked afraid, now, as she rushed towards the Endermen.

“Take him!” she cried, and thrust the baby towards the monster. It bent low, taking the child in its arms, and for a weird moment Gavin saw _himself_ , through the creature’s eyes - a baby with a scrunched up face, swaddled tightly in the very same scarf he was wearing now. “You need to take him. It’s not safe here - I don’t know how much longer we can hold on. Take him while Robin’s still in control of you - as far from here as you can! The Plains - take him to the Plains!”

The beast began to rise, but she grabbed its arm in a sudden, fierce grip, pulling it back down. She bent over the baby, hair falling across her face, and Gavin heard a muffled sob.

“I love you,” she choked out, “My little boy. I love you, we both do - stay safe. Stay strong. When the fighting’s over, I’ll come and find you. I promise.”

She reached out and stroked a finger along the baby’s cheek. Gavin’s pain was terrible - he wanted to cry, to reach out, to touch her, but all he could do was watch helplessly, even as he saw her tears fall onto the baby’s blanket. She straightened up finally, swiping a hand across her face. Then gazed up, and met the Enderman’s blazing eyes.

“Take him,” she ordered again, and in a flash they’d vanished, teleported away-

Gavin jerked back to reality. He stumbled back, away from the heavy hands, trembling so hard he could barely speak. He was crying, he realised suddenly - fierce, wrenching sobs that he couldn’t control, tearing out of him like they were being ripped out by some invisible force.

He could _feel_ her love, warm like a blanket, could sense how clear and true it was.

And something that’d always been tense and knotted inside him eased at that. _You were wanted. They didn’t leave you by choice_. He’d known that, from the stories Midas had told him. But to see it, _feel_ it, was something else entirely - something that seemed to fix a missing, broken piece that’d been in him all his life.

And that love - he recognised it, now. He’d felt it since. It was warm like the others’ was, like the magic he felt in their bond - like the look in their eyes when they saw him. That was real - that was _true_.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, turning to the Endermen and calling out - his voice wavered, cracking horribly, but he didn’t care - “They’re going to fight him in the morning, aren’t they?”

A pulse of acknowledgement from the beasts. Not just that, but he could feel something else churning within them. _Anger. Satisfaction_. They wanted Midas dead, too.

He took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control. Felt his trembling ease, just a little.

He needed to go with them.

They needed the Wild king. And that’s what he felt like, suddenly - just as he had when he first took the crown, with the Endermen gazing at him steadily, with what they’d just _offered_ him - _worthy, worthy, worthy_. Worthy of his crown, worthy of another chance - worthy of love.

He stepped towards the Endermen. He was the one who held his hand out to them now, staring into each set of violet eyes.

“Well, let’s get going, then.”


	19. Chapter 19

Ryan steadied Ray as he straightened up. Both of them were standing on the centre of the pillar. It felt precarious up here, on the old, uneven stone without a barrier or railing to keep them plummeting off the edge. The tower was about two metres in diameter, and they huddled in the middle, clutching each other. 

Ray’s arm was out of its sling, but he was still holding it very carefully. Ryan had climbed up the rusty old ladder behind him in case his grip weakened and he fell - but he seemed fine now.

“Shit,” Ray gasped, leaning against him. “That was quite a climb.”

"Sure was.”

“You okay to climb up yours after that? Don’t want you to get too tired. These things are fucking high.”

“I’m fine,” Ryan assured him. “The potions are helping.”

They’d all downed potions of strength and speed before coming here. Dishonourable? Maybe - but Geoff’s words had mostly been for show. They needed to deal with Midas by any means necessary.

Ryan let go of Ray and inched forward. He peered over the edge and regretted it immediately; the ground was very, very far down, and he quickly turned his attention instead to the view around them.

It was almost dawn, and the sun was only just peeking up over the horizon. It was a grey, misty morning, and a fog hung over the land - it’d been cold last night. They were so high up that he could see the city in the distance, just a tiny blur in the mist - the stretching expanses of the Plains to every other side of them. The other towers rose out of the fog; dark, distant shapes. To one side of them was Geoff, a tiny figure atop his own column. To the other, Michael.

There was a funny feeling about these ruins, a remnant of some unknown, ancient history - something that made Ryan’s skin tingle and sent a shiver down his spine. Or maybe he was just nervous about the upcoming battle.

Still. The view was incredible, and they both stared out at it for a moment - the sun spreading firey streaks across the dark sky, slowly chasing away the night. The silhouettes of the towers around them like shadow puppets. 

“Are you scared?” Ray asked, abruptly.

Ryan glanced over at him.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Not of Midas, per se, but of one of us getting hurt. Are you?”

“Trying not to be,” Ray said. And then, only half-joking, “Would now be a good time to mention I fucking hate heights?”

Ryan stared at him - Ray was still holding his arm tightly, carefully not looking over the pillar’s edge. Ryan rubbed his back reassuringly. Even he felt a touch dizzy, up here with nothing but the empty air around them.

“You’ll be down before you know it,” he murmured. “Sit, if you like. You don’t need to do much up here. After all, we need you to get to the ground as soon as Midas does.”

Ray nodded. He let out a shaky breath and Ryan turned to him, reaching out to touch his shoulder - then grasping his face, gently, pulling him into one more kiss. Ray clung to him - it was disorienting to shut his eyes and feel nothing but the empty drop on all sides. But Ray was warm pressed against him, and the rock was solid under his feet, the weak morning sun a faint but steadily growing warmth against his back. Part of him didn’t want to move - to go back down and realise that this was it, the last stand - no more planning or waiting or final goodbyes. But it couldn’t last forever, and eventually they pulled apart.

“I need to go get ready,” Ryan said quietly.

Ray pressed his head against Ryan’s chest for a moment.

“Good luck, Ryan,” he whispered.

Ryan bent his head to kiss Ray’s hair, giving him one last, tight hug.

“And you. It’ll be fine. _We’ll_ be fine - I promise.”

Ray nodded, but he bit his lip nervously, and Ryan realised, abruptly, that the other man had never really been in _battle_ before, not like the rest of them. He’d fought the Wither, and the temple beasts. _Just monsters. I suppose Midas is a monster, too. Just one man yet we’re so scared of him._ He squeezed Ray’s arm - then pulled one of his Enderpearls out and dropped it over the edge of the pillar.

His stomach lurched, anticipating the drop - then, in a second, he was on the ground. He stumbled, steadying himself against the pillar beside him. It stretched so high he couldn’t see the top - or Ray.

_Here we are then_ , he thought, and took a deep breath. _Ready to go._

The others pulsed in his mind with a steady, calm _anticipation._ No one was panicked, or upset, and that soothed Ryan too as he straightened up and began to walk.

The dawn grass crunched underfoot, icy with frost, and every breath he let out looked like smoke. In the eerie fog, the columns rising from the mist looked like the masts of a ship, pulling in from the depths of the sea. They formed a perfect ring.

One beside him, and two on the opposite end of the circle were empty. As he strode towards them, he passed the ruins of other buildings - walls, part of a roof, a stout chimney. Gods knew what this place had once been.

Jack was in there somewhere, hiding in the shadows.  Aside from that, the land around them was empty. Just flat grass.

_Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide._

“Ryan!” Geoff hollered.

Ryan jumped a little. He craned his neck, peering up at Geoff’s tower as he passed it, and found the other man waving frantically. Ryan was surprised he could see him down here, under the sea of fog.

He rolled his eyes to wave back, for some reason under the absurd misconception that the other man was just being _friendly_ \- but then Geoff called out again.

“Ryan! I can see him approaching!”

“What?” Ryan called back. A shock ran through him. “Are the Wither-”

“No, he hasn’t brought them. He’s just so fucking shiny the sun’s reflecting off him. Could spot him a mile away. I’m surprised a confused magpie hasn’t swooped him yet.”

Ryan barked out a laugh, but his heart was pounding.

“East,” Geoff added. “Same way we came.”

Ryan turned. He strode over, to meet Midas and wait.

Geoff was right. He could see Midas long before he got close, emerging from the fog like the twinkling beacon of a lighthouse. Once again he wore his golden armour, but for some reason all Ryan could think of was how last time Gavin had been beside him, wearing it too.

_Gavin_ \- but now wasn’t the time to drag him into things again. Ryan drew up to his full height, and waited.

“Ryan,” Midas called out, as he drew near. His voice was low and rough. He hadn’t slept a wink last night either, then. “Where are the others?”

“Already up on the pillars, save Gavin and myself.”

"Gavin?” Midas’ eyes widened.

“He’s not here,” Ryan said. “He…”

He trailed off, his own face slackening with shock as his eyes fixed on something over Midas’ shoulder.

Six sets of purple eyes gleamed in the mist. Before them walked a small, lithe figure. Behind Midas’ gold form and dressed as he was in creeperskins, blending in with the dark, Ryan hadn’t noticed him.

“I’m here,” Gavin spoke up quietly, and Midas whirled around.

“Gavin!” he yelled again, sounding as startled as Ryan felt. “Where did you-”

“I found your camp, Midas, and followed you here. A Plains soldier guarding the place told me about the duel.” He straightened up and stared steadily at Ryan. “I’m in.”  
  
Ryan stared back at him, unsure what to say. Gavin’s voice was perfectly calm, and his eyes, though a little red, gazed at Ryan with nothing but resolve in them. Ryan couldn’t place what’d changed about him, but for the first time since they’d met, something about Gavin was different. _Peaceful_ , in a way - that restless energy that’d undercut everything he did was gone. Whatever had taken its place was strong, and determined, and ready to fight.

Midas looked broken-hearted, staring at Gavin with his shoulders slumped.

“Gavin,” he said softly, “I really am sorry. What happened with your friend, back in the city - I was angry, but I didn’t-”

“It’s ok, Midas,” Gavin replied, turning to him. To Ryan’s surprise - and fear - he even reached out and pressed the Gold king’s arm briefly. “There are things in all our pasts that leave… fault lines, I suppose. Gaps we can’t ever really, properly fill in. That’s not your fault. But the way we deal with those… those hurts… if they make us lash out at others… the collateral damage is too much.” He swallowed, and drew himself up to look Midas in the eye. “What happened back there is my fault, too. Either way, it doesn’t matter now. One of us will win, here, one of us will lose. Although I’d rather we didn’t have to fight at all, this isn’t a battle, it’s a duel. You’re a worthy opponent. And you’ve behaved with honour, coming here.”

Midas’ eyes were bright with tears.

“I thought it would be us,” he said again, but Gavin shook his head.

“My dreams were just dreams. They don’t mean anything. Somehow, things will work out. Just not how we thought they would.”

Midas nodded. He sighed, and then looked over Gavin’s shoulder at the Endermen. His brows furrowed a little.

“Send them away,” he said. “Just like I did with my Wither.”

“The terms are that the loser’s army will be destroyed,” Ryan added quietly, and Gavin nodded. He turned to the Endermen and with a wordless order, they disappeared. Ryan wondered how far away they were - if Gavin had them waiting in the wings, ready to bring out if need be. He didn’t ask, just nodded at Midas.

“Please - Jack and I will stand either side of you. Take that centre pillar.”

Midas nodded, seeming fine with that arrangement. He glanced between them, realised they wanted to talk, and with a final smile at Gavin walked off. Ryan watched him, making sure he was climbing the right ladder - and breathed a sigh of relief when he did. That was one problem down - it would’ve screwed everything up if Midas had ended up on the pillar disconnected from the redstone circuit.

He turned back to Gavin and frowned again.

“Gav,” he said, “Where have you been? What brought you back?”

“I wasn’t going to let you all fight without me,” Gavin replied, lifting his chin.

“No, it’s not that - we were worried.” He stepped forward and before he knew it he was pulling Gavin into a tight hug. He could feel the others pressing insistently against his mind - they’d seen Gavin, too, and confusion warred with a combination of overwhelming relief and concern - it’d been awful, before, saying his last goodbyes to everyone just in case something went badly wrong here, and knowing there was one person with whom everything was left unsaid.

Now, at least, he could hold Gavin tightly in his arms. Feel the other man press his face against his shoulder and hug him back - then pull away only to kiss Ryan, fiercely. Ryan ran a hand through Gavin’s hair, pulling him as close as he could. Just in case this was the last time - a morbid thought, but one they couldn’t easily dismiss.

“What brought you back?” he breathed, when they broke apart. His eyes flicked over Gavin; he wore no armour now, golden or otherwise. Just his old scarf, battered and torn now, all the gold paint worn off his boots. Nothing but his wits and a knife, just like he had when he faced the first beast.

“Hard to explain,” Gavin replied, and bit his lip, looking down. “I suppose it was my mother.”

“Your mother?” Ryan asked, his own heart jolting - Gavin nodded, and for a moment he looked close to tears.

“In a way. It’s… it’s just _hard to explain_. Ryan, I’m sorry,” he added, “I caused all this. I should have listened to you all in the first place-”

“It’s okay, Gavin, we understand-”

“No, I mean it. I was insecure, I didn’t… I know you understand why, I _know_ , but it doesn’t change what happened. But I’m going to make it right, now,” he added, that determination back in his voice. “And then we’ll end this.”

Ryan nodded. He squeezed Gavin’s arms again and the other man smiled up at him.

_My mother,_ Ryan thought, staring into his eyes - they gleamed bright green now, brighter than usual. He thought of everything that must have happened years ago, the adventures that’d played out in the tangled dark of the Wild, every choice made, every sin committed, every brave act that had shaped their parents’ paths. That had, in turn, led the six of them here. _I suppose my own mother brought me here, too._

And what they did now - it would dictate the future of their land, their bloodlines, just as everything else they’d done had so far. It was time to stop thinking of the past - to focus on the future, instead.

“We have a plan,” he said then, snapping back to the task at hand. “I haven’t got time to explain it now but essentially we’re going to throw Midas to the ground and kill him while he’s too stunned to use his gift. Ray is going to try and trap him. Move fast and stay out of his reach. You have Enderpearls?”

Gavin nodded.

“Good. You’ll need potions - shit, did I bring any-”

“I don’t need them,” Gavin said - Ryan started to frown at him, but Gavin pointed up at his eyes. “I don’t, Ryan. Can’t you feel it? The magic, here.”

Ryan paused. That constant shiver down his spine, how strange things felt here - he hadn’t recognised it at first, but it did feel like stepping into the Wild. He looked around at the circle of ruins, and wondered again what arcane secrets this place held.

Gavin touched his wrist gently, then slipped his hand into Ryan’s and squeezed. Ryan looked down at their interlocked fingers and squeezed back. He trusted Gavin - trusted, now, that he’d be fine. He felt the others switch gears, up on the pillars - felt them send a surge of affection through the bond. _Be brave now. It’s time_.

“Come on,” he whispered, and led Gavin towards the final two pillars. Midas was halfway up the ladder; here they separated, glancing back at one another before heading for their own columns. Ryan took a deep breath and wiped his hands against his shirt. He stared up for a moment, the stone column stretching endlessly up above him. Then he began to climb.

 

* * *

 

Ryan could feel the pulse of the redstone in the rock under him as he stood at the top of the stone pillar. All it would take was a nudge of his magic to activate it. The another, and another - sending more and more power through it until the connection surged and the tower beside him burst. He could see Midas, standing on top of it - a glimmering little figure, his own hands clenched by his sides ready to call on his gift.

_You’ll have to be fast._

_If he turns his column to gold before you can activate the redstone, none of this will work._

He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves, summoning his gift ready at his fingertips.

Then it came.

A long, low horn call from the one servant they’d brought with them, waiting safely out of range of the battle, with a spyglass in one hand and a war horn in the other. She had orders to start the battle once she could see everyone atop the pillars.

The sun had risen, a soupy orange light that made Ryan feel strangely displaced from time. The horn echoed through the Plains like some dying creature.

And with that, he felt the magic in his blood stir, and launched into action.

He slammed his hand down against the pillar beneath him, and felt it shake as his magic coursed through it, igniting the redstone connection. Felt it travel down, down, across the earth and then up into Midas’ pillar.

The Gold king was already letting out a fierce roar as he called on his own gift - but before he could do anything, the stone under him exploded, gleaming white-hot as it shattered around the redstone core.

“ _Yeah!_ ” Ryan heard Geoff yell, but it was lost in Midas’ broken shout as he toppled backwards from the tower, down towards the ground, down-

Except the whole pillar hadn’t broken. The top half had shattered, but the bottom remained - part of it might have crumbled away, but about half was left still standing. That wouldn’t have been a problem - except the last thing any of them had expected Midas to do was catch the rungs of the ladder and break his fall.

But catch them he did. The sight of his arm wrenching as he came to a stop made Ryan wince, the heavy _thump_ of his body crashing against the stone tower did, too. But before they knew it, he was hauling himself back up with surprising agility.

_Thief,_ Ryan remembered, thinking of Gavin’s own ability to leap about and spring back up from any fall. _That’s right, he used to be a thief._ Apparently he wasn’t as out of shape as they’d assumed - before they knew it, Midas was hauling himself back up onto the broken remains of his turret.

_“Treachery!”_ he roared, his voice shaking with rage - and then, with another furious scream, he mirrored Ryan’s action and slammed his hands down onto the pillar below him.

Gold spread instantly from his touch. Ryan felt the redstone connection freeze over and halt - there would be no repeating of his previous trick.

Fast as lightning, the gold snaked to the bottom of the pillar, now looking like a broken mockery of the magic tower as it stood, crumbling pieces frozen to gold and fixed to its sides like wax dripping down a melting candle - and then across the ground, grass and dirt turning to metal like spilled water.

Here was mistake number two.

They’d assumed he would go for Jack, the closest to him. But he didn’t - in a completely random turn of events the gold raced towards Michael’s tower, opposite Midas’. It reached it faster than anticipated and began to creep up the stone base.

"Michael!” Gavin, beside Midas, yelled - his voice breaking mid-way with panic.

The others automatically sent flares of warning through the bond. But Michael - steady, calm, determined - just continued to follow their plan. He hurled an Enderpearl off the edge of the tower - way, way into the distance, his strength making him throw it far further than Ryan thought necessary. He’d end up miles away at this rate! As it was, he vanished just seconds before the gold reach the top of the pillar.

At his narrow escape, the vice around Ryan’s chest eased. He turned back to Midas, who was now roaring, infuriated.

“What is this?” he cried. “What _is this?_ You said it would be a fair fight! I _trusted_ you-”

He broke off as Geoff fired an arrow at him, managing to duck just as it whistled overhead. They needed to get him to the ground, fuck - but two plans so far had failed, and now that Michael had disappeared into thin air, only Geoff and Ryan were left with their bows. Ryan was already pulling his from his back when a flicker of movement caught his eye.

Gavin had something in his hand - a length of rope, Ryan realised, and with a sticky glob of spider’s web he’d fixed one side to his pillar. Now he leaped into the air and swung up towards Midas, like a circus acrobat on the trapeze. With his rope wrapped around one wrist, the other hand holding a knife - he hurtled through the air and hurled the blade towards Midas. It caught him in the shoulder, just above where his armour plating started.

Midas stumbled back  - and with a yell, his feet met empty air as he stumbled off the tower’s edge just as Gavin swung back around in a wide arc, catching himself on the ladder of his own tower. He peered towards Midas, halfway down the side of the column like a child climbing out of their bedroom window down a sheet rope.

This time, Midas hit the ground hard. He cried out, dust rising up around him - the motion had driven the knife deeper into his shoulder, and he screamed again - a hoarse sound, the breath knocked out of him.

But he wasn’t stunned long - the drop hadn’t been as big as they hoped with half the tower gone. He was already stumbling to his feet - and he began to run.

_Fuck,_ Ryan realised, craning his neck to see him amidst the swirling dust and mist. _Fuck, fuck, fuck-_

He was heading into the ruins where Jack was hiding.

This was bad. Midas was on ground level now where he could access any of their towers, but he wasn’t stunned at all - his shoulder was bleeding, but he hadn’t been slowed down in the fucking slightest. Ryan could feel the others’ panic and alarmed, directed at Jack now - _run, run, get out of there, get out -_ the other man confused in turn, unable to see what was going on from where he hid, waiting to emerge.

But Ryan didn’t want Jack to give away his hiding place just yet. It was the one trump card they had left, and if Midas found him in there Jack could easily be trapped in the ruins and killed. Without even thinking about it he pulled his own Enderpearl out and hurled it towards the ground, aiming for the space between Midas and the ruins.

It was a long shot, and for a moment he thought his aim was off. But then the pearl hit the ground and in a dizzying instant he was staggering there, on the flat earth. He gasped, getting his bearings, and whirled around to see Midas skid to a confused halt where he’d been charging towards him. For a moment their eyes met - he saw shock, then anger flicker across the other man’s face.

They were standing on paving stones, the last patchy remnants of whatever courtyard these ruins had been a part of. Without even thinking about it, Ryan stared Midas in the eye and slammed a foot down. 

A blazing trail of redstone flared under his boot, and began to creep towards Midas. The other man’s eyes widened, then narrowed. He braced himself and crouched, pressing his own palm flat to the ground. A trail of shining metal snaked towards Ryan - in the sunlight, it was just as blindingly bright as his own redstone, and made Ryan’s eyes ache to look at.

Crimson and gold met in the middle with a furious _clash_. Ryan _felt_ the resistance - he was trying to turn the stone to redstone, Midas trying to turn it to gold, both their gifts struggling against one another. It felt like trying to press the opposing ends of magnets together - a wobbly, jarring _wall_ against his magic. He gritted his teeth and drew harder on his gift, pouring more and more magic into it.

_Come on, come on, come on-_

The point where their gifts met blazed white, sparks flying from the stone. Ryan felt himself sliding backwards a little, and braced himself harder against the paving stones.

_Run, Jack. Just enough time for you to get away - that’s all I need, just a little time, just a little-_

His whole body trembled, and he felt sweat run down the small of his back and drip from the tip of his nose. The gold crept forward, towards him, pushing him backwards. His eyes were fixed on it, and the bright glow filling his vision. For a moment, he felt quite certain that he was going to die, and was oddly at peace with it.

_If it saves the others - if it gives them the chance…_

His gift faltered away suddenly, overcome and spent; he fell to his knees on the hot pavement, his entire body trembling, and squeezed his eyes shut as the gold rushed towards him.

 

* * *

 

“ _No!”_ Ray screamed.

Everything was going to shit. He’d watched it fall apart from on high - now he’d teleported to the ground just in time to see Ryan crumple to his knees. For a moment, everything seemed to move in a dazed slow motion as something within him snapped.

He slammed his fists against the ground, and it trembled as magic coursed out of him so hard and suddenly that it burned. Dimly, he heard himself scream in pain - it felt like it had when he first put on his crown and received his gift; an intense rush of magic through his body that made every vein feel like it was on fire.

He’d never used his gift so aggressively before. Ever since their quest for the Nether began he’d been twisting it in ways that no previous Desert king had - not just bringing fertility to the soil, or life to dead plants, but actively creating new ones. And not just regular plants.

With a great tearing noise, his usual magical vines wrenched themselves out of the earth. More of them than ever before, and larger, too - sweeping like the lashing tentacles of the kraken towards Midas, leaving deep rents through the dirt as they rushed through it. They wrapped tightly around his waist and snatched him violently up off the ground.

The gold connection was cut off just before it could touch Ryan, and the vines swung Midas high into the air, writhing and lashing like a nest of snakes.

"What the-” Midas began, but broke off as the vines squeezed tightly around him. Ray’s teeth were bared, jaw clenched tightly, helpless against the stream of magic even as tears ran down his face and fell against his clenched hands, fingers digging deep into the earth. The vines lifted Midas higher, then smashed him into the ground - once, twice! He flopped limply, dazed - but as Ray watched, he managed to wrestle his sword from its sheath.

He cut through two of the vines, but the others - tearing another pained cry from Ray - sprouted huge, thick thorns that pierced him everywhere his armour wasn’t protecting. Midas shrieked in agony - the vines swung him back and flung him again. He slammed heavily against the pillar Ryan had been standing on and crumpled limply to the ground.

For a moment, the vines stood, gleaming and magical - then they slowly blackened, and shrivelled away into nothing but ash.

There wasn’t an ounce of magic left in Ray. He collapsed, his vision flashing, and must’ve blacked out for a minute, he felt so dizzy and sick. The next thing he knew his face was pressed into the dirt and he could barely feel the others in the bond, his magic was so drained.

He dimly registered running feet behind him. Then strong arms lifted him up, hauling him back against a warm chest.

“Ray,” a voice swam into his ears, tight with concern. Ray felt himself smile.

_Michael_. Of course it was Michael - Michael pulling him to his knees, Michael cradling him close until his vision returned and he could see the orange sky above him, swimming into focus as he blinked the tears from his eyes. He felt so weak he didn’t think he’d be able to stand, and could only stare dazedly up at Michael’s worried face.

“Shit, Ray, are you okay? What happened?”

“Overtaxed myself,” Ray croaked. He couldn’t lift so much as a finger - could only lie helplessly in Michael’s arms, breathing heavily. “Too much magic.”

“Yeah, I saw that weird vine monster from way back across the field. It was fucking enormous!” Michael was panting, Ray realised - he was sticky and warm, his chest heaving. “I ran all the way back here. I, uh… I threw the Enderpearl too far.”

Ray laughed, a bit hysterically, but it faded a second later.

“Midas,” he managed, and Michael’s smile faded a little. He helped Ray sit up more, both of them looking around for the others.

Ryan was fine. That made something ease in Ray’s chest - the other man was braced on his hands and knees against the ground, recovering himself after his own exertion of magic. The stream of gold stopped inches from his hands - but he was alive, and whole, and breathing, and he looked over to meet Ray’s eyes and gave him a grateful little smile.

By the pillars, Midas was getting up with a groan, too - but here came the others, striding up now.

Jack was emerging from the ruins, bow in one hand. He rushed to check on Ryan, and after leaning in to whisper to him, pulled him to his feet, one of Ryan’s arms draped around his shoulders, leaning heavily against him.

Geoff appeared in a flash, teleporting down to the rest of them. His bow was already raised as he stalked forward like a hunter, Midas his prey - intent and focused on his kill. Gavin was next, swinging lithely down his column on the rope he still held. He landed with both feet on the ground and glanced over at Ray, giving him a grin and a little nod.

_You’re back,_ Ray thought, chest clenching tightly. He’d seen Gavin arrive, of course, but they hadn’t had the chance to properly greet one another. Gavin looked confident now, pulling a second knife from his belt and striding to Ryan’s side. It was good to see him smiling again.

Michael squeezed Ray’s shoulders.

“Stay back, out of danger,” he said, pulling him to his feet, one arm around Ray’s waist supporting most of his weight as he walked him back away from the others.

“I-”

“You’ve done your part,” Michael assured him. “Rest, now.”

Ray didn’t have the strength to argue, sinking to the ground again as Michael put him down. He drew his mighty diamond sword, blew Ray a kiss, and walked to join the others. Ray slumped against the earth, arms wrapped around himself as he watched the others.

Midas was only just getting to his hands and knees. He looked dazed - his head had struck the stone - and the five of them faced off against him, standing in a confident line. Ray couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them - Geoff and Jack beside one another, a matching set as always. Tall Ryan, something wilder to him now with his hair hanging loosely over his shoulders, looking like spun gold in the sun. Even leaning on Jack, even without his usual pristine control, he seemed strong.

On his other side, slender Gavin in his creeperskins, his scarf in shreds but still knotted around his throat, his boots patchy and spattered with mud, bearing the signs of every kingdom he’d wandered through the last few years. He stood ready to fight, as much a soldier as the rest of them. And Michael, beside him, the bear on his shoulders a dark, fearsome silhouette against the dawn sun, the sword that’d slain so many beasts hanging from his hand. 

They were here. They were ready. And now, together, they fought.

“Draw from me,” he heard Jack say, and Ryan nodded. He closed his eyes, and through the bond Ray felt him pull on Jack’s line, taking his magic where his own was depleted.

Another blaze of redstone formed beneath his boot, trailed towards Midas and then shone brightly as the other man struggled to his knees, blinding him. Midas cried out, one bleeding arm rising to shield his eyes. He sent a frantic burst of gold out - not aiming anywhere in particular, just trying to _stop_ them - but Michael was already lunging to snatch up a piece of the broken rubble from the collapsed pillar.

As easily as if he was throwing a child’s toy ball, he hurled it at Midas. It struck him in the stomach and he collapsed to his knees again, dazed - a second boulder was thrown, knocking him flat on his back with a groan. Ray winced, almost feeling sorry for the Gold king. It was brutal - but they couldn’t get close to fight him, so these strategies were all they had.

They were forced to press back a little. The flare of gold around Midas was inching towards them - but it was patchy, stuttering away in places where his gift had been broken by the blows.

“Shoot him!” Gavin yelled, gesturing at Geoff and Jack.

They nocked their arrows, but Midas was rising again, and now he drew a shield that had been strapped to his back. Geoff’s next arrow thudded into it and broke immediately against the solid gold, and Gavin gripped his knife in one hand and sprang forward.

“Midas!” he cried. “Your fight should be with me!”

Midas turned to him, eyes burning.

“I trusted you,” he yelled back, voice broken and betrayed, “What are all these tricks? A fair fight, that’s what Geoff said - king to king-”

“Didn’t you hear how I won my crown? Tricks were a big part of it,” Gavin said, and advanced towards him, knife drawn. He was hopping from patch to patch of clear ground, an intricate dance. It looked like hopscotch, or children playing at the ground being made of lava; he sprang nimbly to every bit of paving stone or grass where there wasn’t any gold.

Ray’s heart stuttered to watch him - but it kept Midas distracted as Geoff and Jack fired more arrows at him, as Michael hurled another chunk of rubble. One arrow glanced off the shoulder plate of his armour, and he barely raised his shield in time to block another. Gavin drew closer, and Midas roared.

“ _Trickster!”_ he bellowed, and slammed his foot down again.

“Gavin!” Ray heard himself yell; the gold spread out towards him again, filling in the empty patches he’d been using as stepping stones.

Gavin hurled himself backwards in a terrifyingly gymnastic flip, one hand barely finding a patch of safe ground to land on as he sprang backwards away from the gold. His boot caught the spreading pool as he landed and began to turn to gold as well; he barely snatched his legs back in time to break the connection, frantically tearing his shoe off and throwing it away from himself just as the rest of it turned to gold.

Midas began to laugh - only to break off with a choked noise.

It was Jack whose arrow had struck him, in the side of his neck, close to the juncture of his shoulder. He lowered his bow, calmly. For a moment silence fell, none of them seeing to quite register what had happened.

Then Geoff lifted his weapon, and fired again - this one struck Midas in the stomach, in a chink in his armour - Jack let off one more shot, catching him in the side. Midas crumpled to his knees, then fell to his side, eyes wide as he gasped weakly.

His powers drained away, the glow of bright gold around him turning dull. He now lay in a circle of metal that was steadily being covered by the spreading pool of blood beneath his body. After everything, the sudden silence seemed anticlimactic, and all of them stared at each other, unable to quite register that this was _it_. It was _over_.

“Is he…?” Michael began, then trailed off.

But Midas wasn’t quite dead yet. His eyes rolled about, his chest rose and fell weakly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He lay still - but he was breathing. After a long pause, it didn’t seem like he’d get up any time soon, but they still inched towards each other warily.

Gavin hopped over to them, awkwardly with only one shoe. His previous energy had faded and he looked tired and drawn, glancing at Midas and then away again in quick little bursts. Ryan still leaned on Jack, and Geoff turned to Michael then, pressing his arm and nodding at his sword. Michael nodded back, adjusting his grip on the weapon - but didn’t move yet, just watched Midas carefully, ready to attack if he tried anything.

Ray struggled to his feet. He still felt weak, but he stumbled towards the rest of them. Geoff turned and saw him, and extended an arm, wrapping it around Ray and steadying him against his side as he moved in to join the others. They stood there in a line, catching their breath as they stared down at the fallen king, unsure what to do next - if he’d speak, if they should, how close he was to death-

And then the Endermen came.

They heard the footsteps, first, heavy thuds from such great beasts - they didn’t teleport in, but emerged from the mist, huge shadowy forms with their bright eyes. Ray had gotten used to them when he was working with Gavin the last few months, but for a moment he remembered his previous terror of the mobs, and realised how and why people had feared the Wild for so long. They were immense, especially up close - giant forms like the beasts, something disturbing to their humanoid shape and the low hum they were letting out as they approached, step after plodding step.

Midas rolled onto his back with a wheeze, and they all tensed - but he just coughed up more bubbling blood and looked dazedly around. When he saw the beasts, Ray was surprised to see something in him _relax_.

“The clerics,” he croaked, and Ray wasn’t sure what he meant except that he was abruptly reminded of the priests that led the funeral processions in the Desert, bearing fallen kings to the temples, shrouded in black veils. He swallowed, a lump rising in his throat at the sudden, intense memory of watching his own parents taken away - but it faded as quickly as it had arrived when the Endermen came near.

Midas let his head fall back against the ground. Ray expected the Endermen to take him away, but they didn’t, not yet. Just stood, eyes fixed on _Gavin_ \- waiting for his order, Ray realised.

Gavin noticed quickly that everyone was watching him. He swallowed, hard, and Ray reached out and squeezed his arm. He realised the other man was trembling, but before any of them could say something to reassure him - he was stepping forward, and moving to Midas’ side.

 

* * *

 

“Gavin,” Ryan called out softly in warning.

He felt a flash of alarm as Gavin moved towards the fallen king. Even if Midas was down, he might still be able to use his gift. But one of the Endermen stepped forward alongside Gavin, its big hand hovering over his back as he knelt a little way from Midas, not quite close enough to touch. Ryan relaxed as he realised the creature was ready to teleport Gavin away in a second.

Midas’ head turned slowly to look at Gavin. There was blood running in a thin stream from the side of his mouth, and his eyes were cloudy and dazed.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin said. He sounded close to tears, and Ryan’s heart wrenched a little.

Angry as he was about all this, he hadn’t been lying when he told Gavin he understood. He could see the connection between the two of them, their shared experience. He knew the various traumas that had accumulated through Gavin’s life, knew how they’d all become too much - had led him to this. And the pressure of being under public scrutiny, the desperate need for some reprieve - that was something he’d felt, too.

Midas had offered it all. Not just that - Midas had _understood,_ more than most people could. If Ryan had been the one to go to the End, he couldn’t say for sure that he wouldn’t have done the same thing.

“You’ve bested me,” Midas replied, voice weak.

“I know you said they were tricks, but… we just used our gifts, and our bond,” Gavin said. He swallowed, shuffling a little closer, though he was careful to still stay just out of reach. “I don’t hate you, Midas. I wish it hadn’t happened like this.”

Midas stared at him a long moment, struggling to focus. Ryan wondered if he’d be angry - if he’d shout, attack - but finally he just let out a long, rasping sigh.

“Thousands of years in the End, never aging,” he murmured. “Sometimes I wished I could just die. Never enough to end things myself, but… it’s a long time. A lot of weight to carry. Gavin, I’m glad I could come back here, come _home_ , even if only for this sort time. To see the world again - and see all of you, and the bond, and how the tower and the gifts are united in the six of you. That means something, even if I wasn’t a part of it.”

Gavin looked down, chin tucked to his chest, shoulders trembling. Ryan was surprised, and he could feel the others were too, at how gracious Midas was in defeat - especially after all his pomp and posing, after seeing his short temper and extravagant drive to succeed - but as he lay there, bleeding, Ryan could suddenly see how _old_ he was. Not physically, but the thousands of years of imprisonment showed in how, at last, there was something almost like relief in his voice.

“I loved your father,” Midas continued. “He’d be proud to see what you’ve done, there in the Wild. Perhaps I only brought trouble for you - but maybe your people will see now, or maybe I’ve helped _you_ to see… you are more. You _are_ ,” he added, fiercely, when Gavin lifted his head as though to argue. “Perhaps you won’t see yourself as a god. I can’t convince you of that. But you are a _king_ , Gavin - know that, at least. Hold onto it.”

Gavin nodded, arms wrapped around himself. Midas gave him a small smile, then broke into a series of wheezing coughs. His gaze turned towards the sky, whitening now as the sun rose.

“Don’t send me to the End,” he said, and Ryan wasn’t sure if he spoke now to Gavin or to the Endermen. “It’s been too long. I’m ready to sleep.”

No one replied - or moved. A long silence stretched on, broken only by the man’s bubbling breaths. Eventually, they stopped, and everything was at last completely still. For a while, Gavin didn’t leave his side, and the others stood watching quietly.

Finally, slowly, Gavin clambered to his feet. He stared down at Midas for a long moment, and then Ryan saw his eyes glow wordlessly brighter for a moment. With that, the Endermen stepped forward as he stepped back, clustering around Midas, hiding his body from view. Then in an instant they all vanished, and he was gone, too. Ryan didn’t know where they had taken him, and he wasn’t about to ask. He wasn’t worried. It felt like an ending.

Gavin turned, and stumbled back towards them, his eyes red. Ryan pulled free from Jack and moved to meet him. Gavin fell into his arms as they leaned against one another, hugging tightly.

“You okay?” Ryan murmured.

“I should be asking you that,” Gavin replied, voice high and frantic, the words tumbling over one another. He sounded like he was trying not to cry. “Gods, Ryan - for a second, I thought you were dead, for a second-”

He broke off as Ryan squeezed him tighter, and bent to kiss his hair. He felt Gavin burrow into his chest, and for a moment he let himself enjoy it, and forget all the rest. They were fine, Ryan realised, as the adrenaline of the fight began to seep away. All of them had escaped miraculously unscathed, save for being a bit drained of their magic. That was nothing rest couldn’t heal. He glanced over his shoulder to check on Ray, and found him leaning on Michael now, the two of them clutching each other tightly. Ryan gave them a small smile, and turned back to Gavin.

“I’m glad you returned,” he whispered. And then, “I love you. None of us blame you for what happened - you know that, right?”

Gavin nodded, and swiped at his eyes with a slightly awkward laugh.

“I love you all too. And I’m still sorry for causing this.”

“Somehow I think it’s all worked out for us,” Ryan said, and turned towards the others.

Geoff strode towards him, his brows furrowed. He grabbed Ryan roughly by the shirt and pulled him in close.

“You idiot,” he said brokenly, pressing his face into Ryan’s shoulder, hands still fisting his jacket in a tight grip. “I thought you were gonna turn into a gold statue.”

“Geoff…”

“I thought we’d have to display you in the palace garden and live a melancholy existence talking to you like you could still hear us.”

“Geoff-”

“ _Birds would’ve shit on you_ , Ryan! We’d’ve had to put a fucking umbrella over you!”

“We could’ve dressed him up in funny hats and things though,” Gavin supplied, helpfully.

Geoff laughed, but a second later he pulled Ryan into a tight hug and pressed a firm kiss to his temple.

“Idiot,” he said fondly, “You were gonna sacrifice yourself for everyone just like that?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“Anything _but_ that, maybe?”

“It all worked out,” Ryan pointed out. “I’m fine, Geoff. We all are.”

He pulled back so that he could kiss Geoff on the lips instead, as desperately as he had before the battle. This time it was built on relief instead of fear, and he didn’t have it in the back of his mind that it might be the last time. They pulled apart, and Geoff looked over Ryan’s shoulder. His eyes widened.

“Oh,” he said. “Shit, okay-”

“What is it?” Ryan asked. He turned to look, they all did, and froze.

The mist had cleared somewhat, as the sun rose and a morning breeze swept it away. Now, Ryan stiffened as he saw figures crowded at the top of a nearby hill overlooking the ruins. For a moment he thought it might be the Wither, that they’d have another fight on their hands-

Then he realised it was the townspeople from the nearby farms, gathered to watch the battle. A herald stood frantically scribbling notes on a scroll, recording their every move. The mayor stood at the head of the crowd, the town guard to one side, a scraggle of lanky teenagers watching them with huge eyes. Men, women, even children - how long had they been watching the battle?

“What the fuck, guys?” Geoff shrieked towards them, making Ryan jump a little. “It’s dangerous! Didn’t you see him nearly kill us all?”

There was a titter of laughter from the crowd, but it drained away as the mayor - an older woman with a hard-set face - stepped forward. The kings stiffened - but then she dropped to one knee, bowing her head low, and one by one everyone else followed.

Ryan swallowed, the sight of it making something tighten in his chest. Jack came up by his side and reached out, squeezing his hand.

“News of our victory will be all over the land within the week,” he whispered.

“I suppose so,” Ryan murmured back, but glanced over at the others. While they were smiling, pleased at the show of loyalty - there was something a touch uncomfortable about seeing everyone kneel, after what Midas had done. At least this time they had _earned_ the respect they wanted, but still…

Ryan took a step forward, and everyone’s heads rose just enough to look up at him.

“Stand,” he called out. “Please. If you want to be useful, go grab some pickaxes and get started on mining all this gold. It is on your land, after all.”

They hesitated - but after a moment, they rose. _They listened to you,_ Ryan realised, with a pleased thrill. _Not Geoff, you._

A few of them - the mayor, the herald in his big brown hat - stepped forward, clearly wanting to speak with the kings while they were here. After all, many of them probably wouldn’t otherwise have had the chance. But Geoff held up a hand.

“A moment,” he said, and took a deep breath. “Give us a moment. We’ll discuss this with all of you. You especially,” he added, nodding at the herald. “Just - hang on for a second, yeah? We just finished a fucking duel to the death with a very powerful, magical man!”

They laughed again, but hung back, and Geoff ushered the others towards him. Ryan was glad - he wanted to _see_ them all, to catch his breath, to just take this in for a moment.

Michael picked up Gavin’s boot from the ground, now a solid gold cast, and offered it to him.

“Gav,” he said, “Your shoe!”

Gavin took it and nearly dropped it.

“Oh, gods! It’s heavy! It’s not nice when they’re _real_ gold, every step would be like lifting a boulder.” He put it on the ground, nudged it with his grubby bare toes, and grimaced. “I can’t put it on. I’ll just have to take my other shoe off. We didn’t bring any spares, did we?”

“Why would we bring spare _shoes_?” Ray snorted.

“I’ll walk barefoot,” Gavin declared, “But what if I step on a sharp rock or in poo or something? Someone will have to carry me back."

“Get your mobs to do it,” Geoff laughed. And then, incredulous still, “Guys. We _won_.”

There was genuine awe in his voice, and looking around Ryan could see all the others beaming too. Jack, who’d struck the killing blow - quiet, but his eyes shining. Michael as fierce and proud as always, grinning so widely Ryan could see all his sharp teeth. Gavin and Ray, exhausted - but smiling again. He looked around at the destruction, and bit his lip.

There were frozen patches of gold all over the ground, glinting in the sun. A spatter of redstone where Ryan had fought, blood all over the wet morning grass where Midas had been shot. A frayed length of rope swung from Gavin’s tower like an unravelled noose, and all around them was rubble from the collapsed ruins. They’d destroyed an ancient landmark, left new scars in the earth.

But they’d _won_.

Michael was smiling, too, and after a moment he grabbed Gavin’s hand again and tugged him to face him.

“Apart from your golden shoe, I do have something a bit better for you,” he said.

“Did you bring me a present, Michael?” Gavin cooed, and Michael rolled his eyes.

“More like I’m picking up all your lost shit for you. Here,” he said, and reached into the bag strapped to his belt. He pulled out the Wild crown, and Gavin’s eyes widened. For a moment he looked a little upset again as he seemed to remember everything else he and Midas had done - the Stoneworld, the beast - then the realisation dawned that Michael must’ve killed it.

“Michael…”

“It’s yours. Always has been. Not because your father had it or some stupid tower decided you were worthy. Because you went out and earned it.” Michael lifted the crown and after a moment Gavin ducked his head. Michael smiled as he settled it gently on Gavin’s head, careful to avoid tangling the thorns in his hair.

The others were beaming, and Jack looked close to tears. Gavin turned and met Ryan’s eyes, and whatever he saw in his face made him finally break into a smile. Ryan grinned back, and before he knew it he was embracing the others, pulling them all in for a hug - awkward with everybody scrambling to fit - their arms wrapped around each other. He felt the bond surge between them - strong, stronger than any magic he’d ever felt before with _all_ of them here. Geoff back, alive - and Gavin here too, now, happy and settled for once, standing there amidst the others with Geoff’s arms around him and the older man pressing kisses to his face and hair.

They’d be okay, he realised, and closed his eyes and smiled. It was finally over. They were together, and it was over.


	20. Epilogue

**** Ray stepped through the portal into the Plains with practiced ease. His stomach no longer lurched at the transition - he moved as easily as if he was stepping into another room rather than travelling thousands of kilometres into an instant.

He emerged into the throne room of the Plains castle just as Gavin arrived through the Wild portal opposite him. Their eyes met as they appeared at the same time, and they shared a smile.

“Hey,” Ray called out, “I wondered when you were gonna come. You know what Geoff wants us here for?”

“I assumed we were just gonna eat lunch together,” Gavin laughed.

“Yeah - well, Jack’s mother’s coming,” Ray said. He watched Gavin’s face carefully, but the other man just nodded obviously.

“Oh! That’s right,” he said, clearly not suspicious in the slightest. “You haven’t met her before, have you? That’ll be exciting.”

Ray nodded. He’d crossed the room by now and moved forward to hug Gavin, even though he’d seen the other man just last night. They met in the middle of the circle of portals that now took up one side of the throne room - they made an impressive sight, a ring of doorways each built from the staple of a different biome. The smooth sandstone of the Desert, the rough-hewn black obsidian of the Wild. Redstone glowed faintly around each one. 

The castle itself was busier than it’d ever been. Courtiers from every kingdom bustled around - coming in and out, heading to the guards who stood around the magic doors to state their business, then hurrying off to the various meeting rooms within the castle. The crowds were busy without being frantic, and they bowed as the kings passed but otherwise didn’t spare them too much of a look, even as Ray threw an arm around Gavin and kissed him soundly before keeping a hand wrapped around his waist as they headed out.

Three months had changed a lot. 

Even as they left the castle, the courtyard was filled with the colourful, mixed robes of people from all the different kingdoms, here for meetings, settlements and trade, working together to arrange new building projects - the most prominent one at the moment being the redstone railway they were expanding towards the other kingdoms.

Ray glimpsed the two of them, mirrored in the dark glass of the grand entrance hall’s windows as they passed. It was strange how much had changed - Ray’s hair was much longer now, curling behind his ears and just above his shoulders in thick waves. He’d kept his beard. He looked a lot like his father, and he knew Michael had to have noticed - but he didn’t care. There was something comforting about looking in the mirror and seeing his parents look back at him.

Gavin, on the other hand, had taken to braiding his own hair back as it grew longer. If he looked like anyone, it was Ryan. His scarf was too tattered to wear now; he had a new one, of shimmery dark material that Michael had given him, but he’d trimmed the edges with creeperskin from his original shawl. Ray was glad for the change - now that he saw the other man every day it felt less like losing the old Gavin and more like _all_ of them getting over the parts of their past that’d been holding them back, moving together towards a better, brighter future. 

Above all, the two of them looked happy and relaxed, smiling and leaning against each other in the glimpse Ray caught as they passed the window. Two men in love, hugging one another close, Gavin throwing his head back to laugh when he noticed a cluster of people skipping around near the castle gates trying to avoid stepping on what appeared to be an inconveniently placed donkey shit.

“Where are we meant to meet?” Ray asked, taking Gavin’s hand instead as they passed out of the castle grounds and into the city.

“No clue,” Gavin replied. “I have to go find Geoff. Is everyone else here already?”

“Yeah - Michael left early this morning. Said he had something to set up,” Ray said with a careful shrug, “And I’m pretty sure Ryan stayed the night here.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, I’m gonna go find Dan while we wait for Geoff to come get us, yeah?”

Ray nodded, smiling. Gavin must miss Dan since the other man had returned to live in the Plains, he thought - although Dan still spent half his time in the Wild, as part of the team who took in workers from other kingdoms or trained younger soldiers to navigate the jungle terrain.

“See you at lunch,” Ray said, “Or whatever it is.”

Gavin nodded. He lifted Ray’s hand to his lips and kissed it before moving off towards the barracks, glancing over his shoulder to wave. People nodded in acknowledgement as he passed - everyone, by now, knew the kings by sight - and Ray smiled as he watched him leave before turning and heading off into the city as well.

Geoff had asked them all to meet here at noon, but Ray wasn’t certain where they were all meant to go. Wherever they ended up, travelling wasn’t a big deal nowadays. They’d been moving around the five kingdoms regularly the last few months, now that the portals were all set up. Things had been going far more quickly than they’d expected.

He wandered now towards the markets in the upper city, where rich merchants had set up a bustling trade. Now the streets were filled with citizens from every kingdom, come to buy wares they usually wouldn’t have had access to. A few of the shops had even been bought out by people from the Alps and Desert, selling food and furs and trinkets. Everything was plentiful - Ray had been using his gift in the other kingdoms to boost their crops, the miners had entered the Wild to start tapping its resources, and it felt like they were on the brink of a golden age. Sometimes he got nervous about how long it would last - feared maybe this would all crumble and fall apart - but so far, there was a balance. Things were _working_ , and everyone could see it.

A delegation of Desert citizens browsing the stalls saw him. They scuttled to the side and bowed low, but they were smiling, and Ray smiled back, lifting a hand in greeting, fond at the sight of his own people. He felt confident - secure in his own skin in a way that he never had before these last few months. The portals made the Plains feel like everywhere and nowhere. Like _home._

 

* * *

 

Geoff shifted nervously in front of the mirror. He licked his finger and smoothed part of his moustache down, then adjusted his clothes. He was dressed nicely - not in the formal robes he wore for court meetings, but in the blue shirt that Jack claimed brought out his eyes, and the jacket with the silver trim that Gavin said made him look like a storybook prince.

Nervously, he checked the pouch at his belt. _They’re still there. Good. Keep fucking thinking I’ll lose them._

“You look fine,” a voice behind him said.

Geoff glanced over his shoulder to find Michael leaning in the doorframe, smiling. Geoff smiled back. Michael looked good, and he made it seem effortless, even just wearing a loose tunic whose sleeves had been inexplicably removed to show a strategic amount of muscle. He pushed off the wall and walked over to Geoff, smiling brightly.

“I want it to be perfect,” Geoff said, and Michael laughed.

“Oh, trust me, I know. Put on a bit of a show for mine.”

“You waited for the opportune moment,” Geoff pointed out, and swallowed. His heart was fluttering like a hummingbird and it hadn’t stopped since he woke up this morning. It was actually getting a bit concerning. “I keep second-guessing if this is it.”

“It is,” Michael said. “Everything’s going so well. There’s never been a better time than right now. Here,” he added, “From the gardens.”

He pulled out a rose, clipped on a short stem. It wasn’t red, though from how full and luscious it was Geoff could clearly tell it was one of Ray’s. It was pink, and there was something softer to that - something innocent, blushing, youthful. Something that reassured Geoff suddenly that they still had time left - a lot of it.

Michael reached up and fastened it through one of the buttonholes on Geoff’s jacket. The movement brought them close together, and Geoff stared down at him - Michael’s own rosy cheeks, the flushed red of his lips. A deep affection for him swelled in his chest, and Michael looked up. Whatever he saw in Geoff’s eyes made him break into a grin. He gripped Geoff’s shirt tightly as he leaned up and kissed him.

When they broke apart Geoff reached up and cupped Michael’s cheek. After three months he touched Michael with as much familiarity as he did Jack and Gavin.

“You know today is… it’s still all six of us,” he whispered, and Michael nodded.

“I know.”

“It just has to be the two of them, for now. Because they were first.”

“ _Geoff_.” Michael lifted a finger to press against Geoff’s lips. “I completely understand. No one feels left out, I promise. We all get it.”

Geoff nodded. Michael’s eyes were bright and warm, and something relaxed in his chest that he hadn’t even realised was tight and worried.

“Ray’s arrived,” Michael added. “I can feel him in the bond. There’s an hour until noon - I’ll go check on the food arrangements, then I’ll go get him. Do you need me to grab Jack?”

“No, Ryan’s gonna take him there. I’ll go find Gav.” Geoff took a deep breath, then let it out in a very shaky sigh, rubbing his sweating hands against the sides of his pants. Michael burst out laughing, and Geoff scowled.

“What? Stop! It’s not funny!”

“You’re so fucking nervous, man. Relax!” Michael clapped him heartily on the shoulders. “Do you need a drink?”

“Tempting,” Geoff admitted, “But I shouldn’t.”

“Hey.” Michael nudged him in the belly and Geoff squawked, squirming away. “ _Relax_. This is _happy_. Worth coming back from the dead for this?”

“Yeah,” Geoff replied, and let himself smile. “Of course. I promised Jack, didn’t I? Gods, it feels like it was ages ago. But you’re right. I got this.”

He reached down to touch the pouch again, reassuring himself. Then touched Michael, squeezing his arm, leaning on him for a moment, steadying himself. Michael smiled at him, and Geoff loved him so much suddenly - strong Michael, his foundation, Michael who’d so cheerfully helped him organise all this. It was almost as much his moment as Geoff’s, the amount of time he’d put into setting it up.

“Okay. I’m ready,” Geoff said, and straightened up. “Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

Jack sucked in a deep breath of fresh country air. He and Ryan were riding towards a village a little distance from the outskirts of the city. Out here in the farmland it was always relaxing, in the silence and clean air, and they were moving slowly enough that they could talk as they travelled.

“She’s going to love you,” Jack said. “Hell, she already does, I’ve told her so much in my letters.”

“But she doesn’t come to the palace ever?”

“I went out to visit her two weeks ago. She doesn’t come up very often, no. Not really one for the city.” He gave a small smile. “Now that I’m king she could have a house up near the castle if she wanted, but she doesn’t like to make use of her wealth for herself. Real philanthropist sort - she spends a lot of time down in the lower city. Running shelters, organising hospitals, that sort of thing.”

“She sounds like an amazing woman,” Ryan murmured. There was something a touch wistful in his voice, and Jack leaned over to press his arm.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You nervous?”

“A little,” Ryan admitted.

“Gavin always is, too. They’ve met a grand total of two times and on both occasions he made excuses to leave as quickly as possible. It was very strange, because she was lovely to him. I think he just doesn’t know how to handle parents.”

Ryan was silent for a moment.

“What did she think of him running off and taking the crown?” he asked finally, quietly.

“She felt sorry for him.” 

That seemed to soften something in Ryan. Jack squeezed his arm and they smiled at one another again.

“Besides,” he continued, “It’s a good time for you to meet! The Stoneworld is perfectly stable, everyone’s so happy with how things are going, with everything _you’ve_ done for them… you haven’t had any more trouble in court, have you?”

“Not at all, actually,” Ryan said. “The new council I elected represents just about everyone’s interests - the miners, farmers, researchers, engineers… the Wild being opened to us has made everyone happy, and the portals are going so well. I think,” he added, lips quirking up, “That things might just be fine.”

“Good,” Jack said proudly. “She’s very happy with everything we’ve done. And I told her about how you saved my life when we were fighting Midas.”

Ryan looked down, cheeks flushing.

“It’s true!” Jack insisted. “You did- oh!”

He broke off. As they rounded a hill he could see the village up ahead, and he was overcome with a flash of nostalgia. With its quaint cobblestone paths and the elm trees lining the road leading to the gates, it looked like something from a storybook.

He’d travelled this path many times before, usually with Geoff and Gavin by his side. Back when they were younger, before the others were much more to them than names that came up in meetings. When it was just the three of them - not happier times, but something innocent to them, something that made Jack ache now as he thought back on it. The smell of spring in the warm evening air, a hard day’s work behind them... Gavin chattering away happily and doing handstands along the side of the road, Geoff’s cloak drawn up so no one would recognise him as they headed to the pub for a relaxing dinner outside the pomp and bustle of the palace.

He loved where they were now, the _six_ of them - but he’d been happy back then too, when his feelings for Gavin were first developing, slowly but surely as he fit his way in between Geoff and Jack’s steady love for one another. As he began to realise that maybe he and Geoff _could_ work, that things wouldn’t be left unspoken forever. It had been a time for falling in love, and he glanced at Ryan now and smiled at him, pleased to walk the same path by his side now.

“Geoff picked an interesting place for lunch,” he said. “This is where we first met Gav, you know? The inn in this town. He picked Geoff’s pocket.”

“So I’ve heard,” Ryan said. He gave a funny, knowing sort of smile, and Jack stared at him curiously. “I guess he wanted to show the rest of us the same place.”

Jack grinned, soon distracted by gushing over the wildflowers growing by the roadsides. After a moment Ryan dismounted.

“Hey - let’s walk the rest of the way.”

“Why? It’d be faster to ride.”

“We don’t want to get there too early. The others are still on the way. Come on.”

He held out a hand. There was something oddly forceful in his suggestion - but Jack shrugged it off and smiled. He got off his own horse and reached to take Ryan’s hand. The other man seemed nervous - Jack chalked it down to the upcoming meeting with his mother - but not in a bad way. He was still smiling, and Jack resolved to distract him, laughing and talking as they continued making their slow way up the hill.

 

* * *

 

Gavin sat on the edge of Dan’s bed. The other man sat in a chair beside him, sharpening his sword. It felt like the old days again - he could hear the ringing clash of blades in the training yard outside, the _thwack_ of arrows hitting straw dummies, and remembered before Dan was a knight when he’d slept in a dormitory with all the other trainees and Gavin used to sneak in to see him. Some of the others had gotten annoyed by him constantly hanging around, but Dan had always stuck up for him.

He missed the other man, now that he didn’t live in the Wild any more - but Dan was happier here, Gavin knew, and he was still around so much that they saw each other often.

Dan put his sword down after a moment and leaned in.

“So Ryan thinks the Wild would be a good place for Ray to keep testing his magic?” he asked.

“I guess so,” Gavin replied. “He could start doing more and more with it if he’s able to somehow draw on the power in the air. We’ve been looking into some of the older Desert rulers to see what other ways people have used the gift.” He shifted on the bed and added, “It’s weird seeing so many people in there nowadays, and so many buildings.”

“You must be tired,” Dan commented, “Using your mobs all the time for the construction projects.”

“Michael sent workers form the Alps to help. It’s going really fast, it’s just… strange, after it was just our group in there for so long. Suddenly there are so many _people_ living there.” Gavin huffed out a laugh. “I’m trying to avoid cutting down too many trees, though. Maybe it’s silly, but I kind of want to preserve the place how it is. Even aside from the mobs, it’s still a dangerous kingdom. Perhaps I should be trying to wipe out the animals, the monsters… but I don’t want to.”

“It makes sense,” Dan murmured, and Gavin leaned forward and looked at him.

“Dan…”

Seeing something in his face, Dan rose and moved to sit next to him on the bed instead, turning to him questioningly.

“The witches are returning,” Gavin said quietly.

“What?”

“They left the Wild for a while because it was too dangerous with the beast in there, but they’re back now. And there are gonna be more. If people start living in there, well - they’re gonna have babies eventually, right?”

“I mean, probably.”

“Yeah. So there’s gonna be more. I was thinking I might spend more time with them,” he added nervously. “They don’t really have a leader, but some of the older ones… I might be able to find out more about my mother, if they remember her. She’s dead, I know that much - she’d’ve found me by now if she wasn’t. But still, I’d like to know…”

He trailed off, unsure, but Dan put an arm around him and hugged him close.

“That’s good, I think,” he replied. “They might be able to tell you more about your dad, too.”

“Yeah,” Gavin said. He reached up and swiped at his face. “I’m not hung up about it, not like I was before… but I think I’d still like to know more about them, and what they did. Who they were.”

“Of course,” Dan said softly, and Gavin smiled, relaxing a little. He pressed his face against Dan’s shoulder for a moment.

“So tell me about that blacksmith girl you mentioned the other day,” he said then, and Dan’s face went bright red.

“ _Look_ ,” he began defensively, but there was a rap at the door and they both glanced up.

“Saved by Geoff,” Gavin teased, nudging Dan with his elbow. Dan rolled his eyes and shoved him off as he stood up.

“Geoff,” Dan greeted, nodding - he still didn’t bow to the kings, none of the Wild folk did. Dan especially was in a strange in-between place where he lived in the Plains but was still technically one of Gavin’s men rather than part of Geoff’s official army. “Here to whisk him away?”

“You know it,” Geoff replied, grinning. He looked good, Gavin thought. He’d put more of an effort into dressing up than he usually did. _Must want to impress Jack’s mum._

Dan walked towards the door. He clasped Geoff’s arm as he passed, and leaned in close.

“Good luck,” he murmured, or at least Gavin thought that’s what he said. He raised his eyebrows curiously.

“What’s up?” he called out, as Dan left.

“Come on,” Geoff said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s go to lunch.”

“Why’d you need luck for lunch?” Gavin pressed, clambering off the bed.

“I need luck to put up with you,” Geoff said, slinging an elbow around Gavin’s shoulders and pulling him towards the door. He ruffled his hair, and Gavin squawked indignantly, shoving at him.

“Geoff, no! You’ll mess it all up!”

“Good,” Geoff replied with relish. “You have, of late, become exceedingly vain.”

He deliberately hooked a finger under one strand of the braid and pulled it loose. Gavin flapped at his hands and wriggled out from under his arm, Geoff barking out a surprised laugh as he slipped free. Gavin shook himself like a ruffled bird, reaching up to pull his hair free. He carded his fingers through it and began to smooth it into a ponytail, but Geoff reached out and grabbed his hand.

“I got it,” he said, and moved up behind Gavin. His hands were gentle now as he began to braid - Gavin closed his eyes. He liked the feeling of Geoff’s fingers pressing against his head, and leaned into the touch.

“Gods, you’re like a cat,” Geoff murmured, and tied the braid off before leaning in and kissing the top of Gavin’s head. “Come on, the others are probably halfway there already. You bring one of your horrible spiders?”

“No, but I can call one through.”

Geoff shuddered. Gavin felt it against his back.

“I guess it’ll be faster,” he muttered.

“Egg is lovely, Geoff.”

“Yeah. I like eggs on toast and eggs with bacon and eggs on rice. I don’t like it when giant spiders are involved. But I will suffer through it,” he said bravely. “To get there on time.”

Gavin clapped his hands together happily and reached out with his gift, calling the mob towards the portal before reaching to take Geoff’s hand.

He was nervous to meet Jack’s mother again. He’d felt very awkward during their previous encounters. But he thought he would do better now. He was maturer and lovelier - and this time, all the others would be there, too.

 

* * *

 

Michael wandered through the markets, looking for Ray. He was buzzing with excitement and could barely keep himself from dancing down the street.

He was glad Geoff had asked him to help with the planning this morning. Ryan had been helping him the other night, he knew, and Ray had supplied the flowers, so Michael had been worried he’d be the odd one out. Uninvolved, unable to help.

Still. He was pleased to go and get Ray now, looking forward to travelling out to the village together. The two of them still spent the most time together, even after everything - it was mostly because all their belongings were still in the Desert and the Plains, so it was convenient to go back there every night with the portals.  

It felt comfortable. Felt like marriage - _real_ marriage this time. Even after reconciling just before Geoff’s death they’d both been so busy running around they hadn’t had a second to relax. Now he had Ray, and it was everything he wanted.

_And soon…_

He caught sight of Ray, standing inspecting a stall that sold Alpine wildflowers.

“Ray!” he called out, and Ray turned and smiled. Passersby turned and looked at them as they moved to meet one another, but they were used to that by now, and barely noticed. 

“It’s time?” Ray asked.

“Yep,” Michael replied, grinning. “Geoff just went to go get Gav.”

“Good,” Ray said. “Then we’ll go join them.”  
  
“We’re gonna have to ride fast to catch up,” Michael pointed out, as they headed back towards the castle. “You were busy this morning?”

“A bit,” Ray replied, “But I didn’t get here too late. Same time as Gav.”

“Excited?” Michael added, and Ray’s lips twitched.

“Extremely,” he said. “You?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, but shifted, biting his lip, his stomach churning. “Kinda nervous to meet Jack’s mother, though.”

“Hey. It’ll be fine.” Ray reached out and squeezed his arm. “You’re not normally scared of anything!”

“I know,” Michael replied, and sighed. “It just feels kinda weird. After all this, there’s one other person whose opinion matters, _really_ matters this time. Plus it makes me wonder how… how my parents would react if they knew about all this, about everything that’s happened-” 

He broke off, voice breaking a little. Then continued, softer now, “You can’t help but wonder, you know.”

“Yeah,” Ray agreed, his own voice thick.

Michael swallowed. He felt a little emotional, but no lump rose in his throat this time. The loss of his parents would always be present, in the back of his mind, but the pain felt more like the ache of an old wound now. No longer raw and sharp. He’d be fine, he thought. He would.

“Geoff seemed worried this morning,” he said, changing the topic, “That we’d be, I don’t know. Upset or jealous.”

“What? Gods, no!”

“That’s what I told him. You sure though?” Michael added, teasingly. “I know how you can get.”  
  
Ray rolled his eyes as Michael snickered.

“Don’t cross me!” he warned. “If I throw a tantrum I could tear the whole fucking earth apart.”

“So powerful. I tremble in fear.”

“I think you mean you _swoon_ at the thought of my strength and power,” Ray said, glancing at him sidelong.

Michael laughed.

“That what you used to do? Get all hot and bothered over my gift?”

“Shut up,” Ray said, cheeks flushing, and Michael guffawed, reaching out to sling a companionable arm around him. But it felt good, to laugh together, and he was pleased to lean in and kiss Ray’s cheek as they reached the stables and headed in.

“Hey, for real though,” he said. “There’s no need to be jealous. And I know you know that already, but… he’s asking the two of them, but really it’s all of us. It will be. It _is_ , already. And it’s working out fucking perfectly.”

Ray nodded, his eyes warm as they paused and he gripped Michael’s hands tightly.

“Our parents would be happy to see this,” he said, sincerely. “Maybe not how things were going six months ago, but now… everything we made…”

“It’s ours,” Michael finished. “Our hard work.”

He reached up and touched Ray’s cheek. Gods, he loved him - and he was so impressed by everything he could do with his gift, how far he’d come since the two of them were boys. He remembered when Ray’s parents first died - Michael had been scared, too. Scared of what this meant for his best friend, for both of them. Scared at the reminder that one day, his own time would come as well to take on the crown, the mantle, the responsibility of the Alps.

Looking at them now… Ray looked a lot like his Dad, and Michael wasn’t sure if it was intentional. But he wasn’t his father. He used his magic in strange and wonderful ways, and there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he reached up and pressed his hand over Michael’s, leaning into his touch.

“Off we go then,” Ray said, softly. “We’d better hurry. We don’t want to miss out.”

 

* * *

 

Ryan and Jack arrived first.

Ryan was careful to linger, waiting for the others rather than going into the inn - distracting Jack by asking him about a thick tree near the gates, its fat trunk carved with the initials of various lovers.

“We should add us in,” Jack suggested, delighted.

“All of us?”

“Of course! Not just some.”

Ryan pulled out his knife and dug six sets of initials into the tree as Jack watched, nodding approvingly along.

“Anyone who sees this will be confused,” Ryan chuckled when it was done. So many letters, forming a circle, looked a bit ridiculous. There were a few groups of three elsewhere on the tree, carved into hearts, but six was by far the biggest group.

“They’ll know it’s us,” Jack declared. “Who else could it be? Future historians will find this and consider it a source. Proof of our affection for one another.”

“Do you worry much about that?” Ryan asked.

“What?”

“History. Legacy. For a lot of kings, it’s an obsession. A driving force.”

“Not particularly,” Jack replied, frankly. “But we’ve barely had the chance to worry, so much has happened since we all inherited. Either way, we’ve definitely made our mark on the world. Brought a new way forward. Especially you.”

He put a hand on Ryan’s arm, and Ryan gave a huge, wide smile. He couldn’t help it - here in the dappled sunlight under the big oak, with the smell of wildflowers around them and how gorgeous Jack looked, his beard reddish in the afternoon light, his eyes soft… Ryan almost wished, for a fleeting moment, that he was going to be the one to ask.

But it passed, and he felt the others drawing near.

“Holy hell,” Jack said, his hand falling from Ryan’s arm as he felt it, too. “Geoff’s agitated about something!”

Indeed, as they approached Ryan could feel how tense Geoff was. He wondered if Gavin, travelling with him, would ask what was going on. How convincingly Geoff might lie.

“He’s fine,” he began, but Jack was frowning.

“He feels really scared!”

“He told me earlier that he’s nervous about this lunch. About all of us being here with your mother - what she might think of us.”

The lies flowed off his tongue easily, but Jack seemed to buy it. His brows furrowed.

“Oh,” he said. “He doesn’t need to be! He’s met her heaps of times. Michael and Ray feel a bit tense, too.”

“It’ll all be fine,” Ryan assured him. “C’mon - let’s go meet them.”

Ray and Michael must have ridden hard. They arrived at the village gates at the same time that Gavin and Geoff entered, both on the back of one of Gavin’s spiders. They all smiled and waved as they came together - there was still that thrill of _everyone_ being in the same spot at once. That hadn’t gotten old yet, even if the portals meant it happened just about every day, now.

Gavin leaped nimbly off the creature’s back, and Ryan moved to catch him, reeling him in to hug him tightly with a smile and a quick kiss on the lips.

“Hello there,” he said, and Gavin beamed up at him.

“Lovely Ryan! You didn’t come to the Wild last night.”

“I was helping Geoff with something. Stayed up pretty late. Tonight,” he promised, and Gavin grinned.

Ryan turned to Michael and Ray, exchanging a knowing look with them. Then Geoff, who was gingerly scrambling down the spider’s side, moving in to squeeze him tightly and draw him into a slow kiss. Geoff gripped the front of his shirt, Ryan’s own steady calm washing over him and soothing his rattled nerves as their lips worked against one another. When they broke apart Ryan stared into his eyes.

“Say it for all of us,” he murmured.

Geoff nodded. He put a warm hand on Ryan’s shoulder, steadying himself for a moment.

“I love you,” he said suddenly, and Ryan’s eyes widened - then he smiled, warmed.

“I love you too,” he said, and clapped Geoff on the shoulders before pulling away.

They turned to find Gavin admiring the tree carving which Jack was showing him. Ryan laughed, and went to stand a little way off between Ray and Michael. They smiled on either side of him - Ray’s hand on his back, Michael leaning on his shoulder. Together, together, together.

Geoff stood alone, hands twisting nervously in the sides of his pants. The sudden hush that had fallen made Jack and Gavin turn, and even Ryan’s heart slammed now. _It’s time_.

“Geoff?” Jack asked, carefully. He was no fool, and had clearly realised something was up.

“Are you gonna shit yourself, Geoff?” Gavin asked, because of course he did.

"What? No!” Geoff squawked. “Of course not. What the fuck?”

“You feel like you’re about to shit yourself.” Gavin tapped the side of his head. “Is that why you’re so scared?”

“No, idiot,” Geoff said, and rolled his eyes fondly. “I’m not gonna fucking shit myself. I just have a… a question.”

“A question?” Jack asked, giving him a measuring look.

“Yeah. Pretty important one.”

He paused for a moment. “Okay, okay,” Ryan heard him whisper to himself - then he took a deep breath, and stepped forward to take Jack’s hands. Gavin moved back, out of his way.

Ryan’s heart caught as Geoff looked straight into Jack’s eyes. Now that the actual moment had come, he seemed calm and gathered, and Ran felt him settle in the bond with that particular steadiness that only Jack gave him, as familiar and comforting as coming home.

“Jack,” he murmured. Jack was standing very still, frozen - Gavin had his hands pressed to his mouth, and Michael clung tighter to Ryan’s shoulder, all of them watching in perfect silence. “Ever since we were children, you have been _everything_ to me. Best friend. Confidant. Occasionally, partner in crime.” He broke off here with a slightly tearful laugh, that choked off as Jack laughed too. He was clutching Geoff’s hands in a death grip. Geoff gathered himself, and continued.

“For a long, long time, everything between us went unsaid. But after my parents died and I inherited… you’ve been my rock, Jack. As my advisor you guided me to become the sort of king I am today. Not just because of your wisdom and prudence, but your compassion and generosity. You have done endless service to this kingdom and to me. And when I died…”

He trailed off, too choked up to continue. A tear ran down his cheek and he began to sniff wildly as he swiped at it.

“Oh shit, fuck, okay, I’m crying.” He looked over his shoulder towards Ryan and the others, eyes red-rimmed and desperate. “Help!”

Michael started laughing. It was not particularly helpful.

“It’s okay,” Jack began.

“I’m lost now. I knew I should’ve brought fucking palm cards.”

“It’s okay, you’re doing great,” Jack assured him. Then, tearfully, “I’m crying too.”

“Let’s all cry together for a moment,” Geoff suggested.

Michael let out a theatrical wail and they all laughed. Ryan’s own chest felt tight, but it broke the tension. Jack stroked Geoff’s cheek tenderly, and it seemed to bring him back. He took a deep breath and continued.

“When I died,” he repeated, “You took over, and you were stronger than I ever thought possible. And you never gave up on me. It was thinking about you that kept me going, over there in the Nether. That kept me hanging on. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

Jack was biting hard on his bottom lip, and Geoff squeezed his hands.

“I love you,” he said tenderly. “I have for years, and before all the shit with the Wither happened - do you remember? Back when Ryan was an asshole and we all hated each other, he made some stupid comment-”

“Hey!” Ryan said indignantly, but couldn’t help his laugh.

“And I said you were the king consort,” Geoff announced.

“Oh gods,” Jack gasped, realising where this was going.

“Yep,” Geoff said. “Well, I didn’t get to make good on my promise because… you know, I was burning in hell and stuff. But here we are now. Alive,” he said, and smiled wryly, “That’s the first good step. And happy, and _stable_ , and so I can’t think of a better time to ask the man who brought all of us together. Who never gave up on any one of us. Whose side I’m proud to rule by as joint kings. Jack,” he said, and dropped to one knee.

Beside them, Gavin gasped. His hands were clasped to his face like a small child. Jack just stared at Geoff, eyes huge and glistening with tears even as Geoff gripped his hand.

“Will you marry me?”

Gavin was crying, Ryan realised, and even he felt tearful watching them. After everything that’d happened it was overwhelming to finally realise that this was it, their happy ending. That they’d come out the other side of things battered and scarred but alive, and _together_ , and stronger for it. Big admissions of feelings weren’t common among the six of them, so when they did come it meant a lot. He had so much he wanted to say too.

Jack’s hands were shaking as Geoff offered him the silver ring he’d pulled from his pouch.

“Say no!” Ray called out, and Ryan elbowed him.

“Yes,” Jack laughed, eyes flickering to the others watching before turning back to Geoff. His voice trembled, but he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “Yes, I will.”

Michael whooped, and they all cheered and clapped as Geoff slid the ring onto Jack’s finger and rose to pull him into a passionate kiss. Gavin was clapping hard and bouncing up and down on the souls of his feet, tremendously excited even if there were tears running down his cheeks. He danced over to their side and grinned at Ryan, trying to nudge up under his free arm - but Ryan gently pushed him away.

“Ry?” Gavin asked, confused.

“Show’s not over yet, Gav,” Geoff said, and Gavin turned, confused. Geoff was looking over at them, Jack in his arms. Jack glanced at him, and then broke into a grin as he realised what was going on.

“Oh, Geoff,” he said, delighted.

“What?” Gavin asked, oblivious but wary now.

Geoff kissed Jack on the cheek before stepping away from him and moving up to Gavin instead.

“Why do you think I picked this spot?” he asked gently, nodding at their surroundings - the idyllic village, the great shady tree. Curious faces watched them from the window of a nearby tavern. “Where we first met you? Back when you were just some stupid kid who wasn’t scared to pick the king’s pocket.”

“Look, I didn’t know it was you,” Gavin said, but his eyes had gone huge.

“Don’t lie, you wouldn’t have cared even if you did,” Geoff laughed, and stepped closer to him. “Never did - and I loved that about you. During the games, you thought it was me and Jack and not you. I never want you to feel like that again. It’s the _three_ of us. You completed things - until, y’know, we decided to go and make this thing a love hexagon.”

“Oh, don’t call it that,” Ray groaned.

“I wasn’t about to ask him and not you,” Geoff said, staring intently into Gavin’s eyes.

Gavin’s hands were pressed over his mouth again. Geoff reached out and gently removed them, tangling their fingers together, holding them up between their bodies.

“I said Jack made me the man I am today,” he said, “But you did, too. You showed me another side to the world. Outside the court. Whenever I was struggling - you were the one who could make me smile. You followed me to the games even when you wanted to go and find your parents. We’ve had our troubles, and I’m sorry for my part in them. But Gavin, let me say - you’re the bravest person I know. You’ve done things that shouldn’t be possible. Slain a beast. Rebuilt the Wild. Put up with me for like seven fucking years.”

Gavin barked out a laugh. He was trembling.

“You amaze me constantly,” Geoff said, fiercely, “And I want to show you, too, that I love you. That I will forever. Now, I know you have some… disruptive ideas about the uselessness of these sorts of ceremonies,” he began, and Gavin laughed again, shakily. “But take it as a symbol, if nothing else. Will you marry me, too?”

He dropped to one knee and pulled a second ring from his pouch, offering it up. Jack was bouncing and clapping, looking happier than Ryan had ever seen him. His own heart was swelling, eyes fixed on Gavin and how shocked he looked - shocked, but pleased, waves of pleasure and excitement pulsing through the bond between all of them.

Instead of answering, Gavin collapsed to his own knees and reeled Geoff into a tight hug, burying himself against his chest. Geoff let out a startled noise, one hand flying out to balance himself, the other wrapping tightly around Gavin’s back, the ring tightly clutched in his fist. Beside Ryan, Ray cheered loudly and clapped.

Jack moved up and hugged them too, bending over to wrap his arms around them both.

“Yes,” Ryan heard Gavin mumble, “Of course, yes.”

The others watched together as Geoff managed to push Gavin back long enough to slip the ring onto his finger before tugging him in again to hug him, lips pressing repeatedly to his hair. Ryan’s heart was swelling. It was like a fairytale ending, and he was so happy for the others. He didn’t feel left out - not with the others beside him. Not after Geoff had explained carefully, one night a few weeks ago, how he was thinking of doing this.

_One day it will be you,_ he thought. Not bitterly, but with a certainty that the others had brought him. He was happy, here and now, and the bonds between them all were tightening like knots, one at a time - pulling secure, ready to stay forever. His own slowly twisting and curling, tightening in increments with each of the others. He wasn’t ready yet - but soon he would be. He was sure of it.

Ray squeezed his hand, and Ryan looked over at him. They smiled at one another before Ray suddenly leaned up and pecked him on the lips - a brief, innocent motion.

When they broke apart they turned to find the others had risen. Michael was bounding over to hug Jack, and Geoff was picking Gavin up to kiss him, spinning him around in a circle before setting him down.

“Thank fucking gods that’s over with!” he cried, voice cracking a little. “I was up all night memorising those speeches!”

Jack rolled his eyes. He met Ryan’s eyes and smiled, and he and Ray wandered closer now, inspecting the rings, exclaiming over them.

“Silver,” Geoff said proudly. “I figured we’d had enough of gold. The finest smiths from the Alps made them.”

Ryan had seen the rings when Geoff first got them, but on the others’ fingers they looked even nicer. Jack’s was a solid, thick band - classical, simple, but sturdy. Gavin’s was more detailed - a slender, delicate design of leaves. It suited him, reminded Ryan of the Wild crown, just without its brutal thorns. Something prettier and more natural to it. Ryan met Gavin’s eyes happily and reached out to brush a thumb against his chin, tilting his head up to kiss him quickly.

“Have you been planning this all along?” Jack cried. “Were you all in on it?”

“Guilty as charged,” Michael admitted.

“So that’s why Dan was acting so weird!” Gavin exclaimed. “He knew too? Unbelievable!”

“You happy?” Michael asked, grinning.

“Really, really happy,” Gavin said, and apparently decided to do a cartwheel to prove it. Michael immediately tried one too, and fell immediately. They all laughed as he clambered back to his feet, brushing loose grass off himself.

A series of cheers made them turn. The people watching from the pub window were clapping and roaring and Geoff grinned, raising a hand to them in greeting.

“Wait, so was this all a lie or is my mother actually here?” Jack asked then.

“Oh, she’s here,” Geoff snickered. “She knew about all this too. She’s waiting in the inn to congratulate us. We set up a feast,” he added, “Since, y’know, we assumed you’d say yes and not leave us all heartbroken.”

Jack laughed.

“Then let’s go meet her,” he said warmly, and turned to Michael and Ray. “I have so much to tell her about all of you.”

They took his hands and headed into the village. Ryan hung back a little, watching them, unable to stop smiling. Geoff and Gavin stayed by his side.

“Thanks for bringing Jack,” Geoff whispered after a moment, leaning in and kissing Ryan’s cheek.

“What you said to him,” Ryan said, “It was amazing. _You two_ are amazing - and I’m honoured you’ve let the rest of us be a part of what you have.”

“You helped me write it,” Geoff pointed out with a small smile.

“Don’t give me all the credit. I edited it, that’s all. You spoke from the heart,” he said, and swallowed before adding, softly, “I hope one day I’ll find it in myself to do the same.”

Geoff nodded, gently. Ryan had changed a lot since the beginning, but sometimes he still found himself hesitant. Unsure of himself. But they had time, and he appreciated the others’ patience.

“Thank you,” Geoff said. “For everything. We wouldn’t be here without you.” He pressed Ryan’s arm and smiled. “Now come and meet Duchess Pattillo!”

“I will,” Ryan said, but looked pointedly at Gavin. Geoff glanced between them and nodded, squeezing Ryan’s hand before jogging to catch up with the others.

The two of them held back for a while, Ryan quietly turning Gavin’s hand over in his, inspecting the ring. The silence was comfortable, and after how emotionally overwhelming what had just happened had been, Ryan was glad for a moment to stop. To reflect. He remembered his first stirrings of feelings for Geoff’s fool, over a year ago now during the games. How they’d blossomed since then - how they’d _all_ blossomed!

“When I first told you my name, you said you liked it,” Gavin spoke up abruptly. “ _Free_. Said you’d change yours, if you could.”

“I remember,” Ryan murmured. He lowered Gavin’s hand and met his green eyes. “The sentiment still stands.”

“Soon,” Gavin said, and swallowed. “One day.” There was something almost questioning in it, gently probing -   _do you mean it? Are you ready?_ “Make you Free, too.”

Ryan smiled, and reached out to cup his cheek.

“I already am,” he said, and Gavin grinned and laughed. Ryan stared at him for a moment, fondly. Little Witch boy and the Stone king - they’d come very far, since those first days. And now Ryan laced their fingers together and felt the cool silver band turn warm against his own skin as they walked to join the others, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the series is finished!! It feels kind of unreal because the total time I spent on this AU is probably even longer than what I spent working on Sealand. I’ve had so much fun developing this universe so it feels kind of bittersweet to end it (although said ending is very cheesy and sappy omg… I did promise a happy ending!)
> 
> Thank you so, so much to everyone who’s engaged with this story and supported me through comments, kudos, messages, art, fanmixes or any other means. I really appreciate it and it’s been incredibly motivating! 
> 
> Although this is the last LONG story in the series, I may return to this universe for oneshots or shorter fics! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed it! :’) Next up I’ll be working on various prompt fills while I start writing ahead on the next long multichapter: an enemies-to-lovers mavinwood GTA AU. 
> 
> <3 <3 <3


End file.
